


Goten No Sakura

by saiyansecret



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 68,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiyansecret/pseuds/saiyansecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Goten and Vegeta can't pinpoint exactly when their attraction began, and the long-ensuing scandals begin to uproot the lives of all concerned. Can a cruel, unlikely love bloom in the light of such a reality, or only scatter in the winds if everyone they care for turn against them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Basically stuff I typically skim over. Some sensitive material, & the muses change their minds, a lot. >_

***  
 ** _Flashback_**  
 ** _POV: Goten_**   
-:-  
The Winter break of Goten’s thirteenth year felled upon the land the most bitter cold it had known in several decades, causing most establishments and roads to close. 

Luckily the blizzard had happened during break so that no school would be missed, the adults commented in resignation. Goten and Trunks did not share their opinions, as Christmas had been dull, and it put a significant damper on their families’ plans for New Years.   

One bleak, late December evening, the two demi Saiyans were riveted to their favorite sci-fi series on TV, the Briefs being among the lucky few to be equipped with a cable generator. They were careful to keep the noise level down, so as not to wake Bra in her nearby nursery. Despite the thick, sturdy walls of Capsule Corp, the blue-haired baby’s hearing was unusually sharp. 

The teens were inhabitually subdued that night, without really knowing why. Like the other decorations, the large, elaborately colorful Christmas tree in the corner that perfumed the air with fresh evergreen and mulled spices appeared forlorn somehow. Something was just off.  

Bulma brought them another bowl of microwaved popcorn and hot chocolate, which she set on a low table before them. “Here you go, kids,” she told them in a dull voice of false cheerfulness.  

“Thanks,” Goten replied, watching her light a cigarette as she looked out a living room window at a few chickadees eating birdseed from a ball of suet on the balcony. He glanced at Trunks and frowned, both beginning to comprehend. She rarely smoked. “Is everything okay, Auntie?” he ventured.  

“Sure,” she waved off, heading back toward the kitchen, “Get yourselves ready for bed after your show,” she called over her shoulder.

“‘kay,” Trunks called back, but glanced questioningly at Goten. The former’s parents’ ki that came from the kitchen area were heavy and sullen, which explained the odd tension in the house. Both mentally shrugged and turned back to their series, deciding it wasn’t their business.

A few minutes later, angry voices were raised, becoming progressively louder until the baby inevitably awoke, crying.

The boys hurried to the nursery, and Trunks picked up his little sister, calmingly rocking her. “It’s okay, big girl,” he gently hushed.

Goten offered her the pacifier, which she refused. “Maybe she’s hungry.”

Trunks nodded, turning on a small lamp. “You mean she’s pissed off, but she does need changed,” he observed, adding in embarassment, “I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t be,” Goten replied cheerfully, “You oughta see my parents.” He left, then snuck into a small antechambre between the nursery and kitchen to quickly prepare a fresh bottle. While it was warming up, he partially overheard what was being said, or rather yelled:

“…because you’re drunk as fuck!” Bulma was shouting, “Great example you set.“  

“Don’t get your hopes up, filthy whore!” Vegeta seethed back in a slurred voice, and a loud crash of dishes breaking was heard. “An’ you’re one to talk about examples… _you think I’m stupid!?_ Mirai Trunks was who you really wanted, and don’t deny your second affair with Yamcha! Or was it the third, besides the others? I can’t keep track!”

From the antechambre, Goten inhaled sharply. Was that true, or just a paranoid phase of alcohol?

“Like you’d actually care!” Bulma shot back caustically, “The only reason Bra was even born was because your heat cycle kicked in, and you damn near killed me in the process!”

“I gave you a senzu bean,” Vegeta retorted indignantly, “It’s not my fault you can’t handle it. And I don’t care, because Yamcha’s crap in bed.” He burst out laughing drunkenly at his own bluff.

Bulma was shocked to silence for a moment, before disgustedly sneering, “So, what I suspected is true. You’re a goddamn faggot!“  

Goten cringed beyond the wall, but Vegeta sounded puzzled rather than offended. “I never understood why this planet considers that an insult. What difference'it make?” His voice had become difficult to understand, and his erratic, unpredictable spikes of ki were alarming.

“Oh, so I can’t satisfy His Highness because–” Bulma’s voice was masked by the sound of more breaking dishes, which she was hurling against the wall.

_C'mon dammit, hurry!_ Beginning to sweat, Goten waited impatiently for the timer to ding, then rushed the bottle to the nursery. He handed it to Trunks, whose freshly changed baby sister had calmed. He glanced ambivalently behind him, and back to his friend. 

Goten began with embarassment, “Uhm, Trunks, maybe I should… leave now–” He was interrupted by a much larger crash, followed by a ki blast. “Stay here with Bra!“  

“But what–?”

Alarmed, Goten spontaneously raced toward the kitchen, overhearing more cursing, and Bulma yelling, “You know it makes you crazy! Put that bottle down at once!”

Goten got to the doorway to see Vegeta stand up unsteadily to yell back, “I live here, and I’ll drink as much as I goddamn please!” Electric sparks of ki surged dangerously from him, while Goten watched uneasily.  

Bulma snorted, then practically spat, “I should remind you that you live here only because we allowed you!” Contemptuously, she seethed, “Don’t ever forget, you’re in _my house!”_

His teeth bared, Vegeta flung the kitchen table across the room, which made a large hole in the wall on collision. A glowing ball of ki instinctively formed in one hand, a half emptied sake bottle in the other.  

_"No!”_ Panicked, Goten rushed in and stood between them.  

Ignoring him, Vegeta flung the ki over his shoulder, precisely into a cabinet just a foot from where she stood. Satisfied with the result of her silent palor, he sneered back, “Alright, spoiled little rich bitch who couldn’t survive a day without your useless luxuries. You’re nothing to me… _nothing!_ So keep _your house!”_ Still clutching the sake bottle, he stalked to the door, staggering a little.  

Goten’s relief was short-lived. “Wait, Oji-san!” He tried to stop him, but Bulma blocked his path. 

“You, stay out of it!” she hissed, glancing at the clock, “Your show is over, and I told you both to get to bed.”

Goten watched, perplexed, as Vegeta opened the door, an icy blast of wind blowing in. He was clad in only a tank top and sweats, not bothering to take his coat. “We can’t just let him go out in the cold!” He winced when the door slammed shut.  

Bulma rolled her eyes at his horrified expression. “I don’t think you understand,” she stated firmly in a lowered voice, “What you saw was nothing. He’s not the same when he gets drunk. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, Leave. Him. Alone. and I mean it. Now get to bed.“  

Goten glared at her in a clear challenge, very tempted to give her a repeat performance, which only won him a sigh of exasperation. “Son Goten, for the last time…” she raised her voice in warning.

Goten’s glare was unwavering, but he thought fast. He himself disliked conflict, preferring to find more efficient solutions. “Fine,” he conceded, announcing crisply, “Bra was fed and changed.” He turned on one heel and left the room without another word.    
-:-  
“Guess I overreacted,” Goten told Trunks a few minutes later, as they slid under the covers of their respective twin beds, “It was just a little squabble.”

“I thought so,” Trunks replied confidently, “Told ya, my parents are drama queens.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Goten agreed lightly, with a theatrical yawn, “Didn’t realize I was so sleepy.”

Predictably, the yawn was catching. “Damn you, cut it out,” Trunks laughed, but it had indeed been a long day, and he shut off his lamp. “‘Night, then.”

“'Night.” Goten curled up on his side, feigning gradual sleep. Luckily for him, Trunks went to sleep quickly. When he was sure, he silently got out of bed, peeling off his long pyjamas that concealed his street clothes, stuffing them underneath the pillow. Sneaking to Trunks’ closet, he took out the other’s spare coat with a polar lining, along with an emergency blanket.

Bundling up in his own winter coat, Goten snuck out a different window, careful to block any drafts. 

Outside, Vegeta was not difficult to locate, though his weakened ki was unsettling. He and Bulma had both said some mean things, and he was being stupid. His thoughts were also unclear, and he was putting himself in danger. Goku would not allow it, nor would Goten. 

He found him seated on the frozen ground, leaned against the house, and seemingly oblivious to the biting wind and snow. The tipped bottle of sake was empty except for a last small swallow, making Goten wonder how much he’d drank to be in such a state.  

Cautiously, he knelt facing him, though the prince did not appear to notice him. “Vegeta-san.” 

No response. Goten tilted up his face to examine with a pocket flashlight. His skin was palid, almost bluish, his halfway shut eyes unfocused. Not good. “I just brought you a coat,” he told him carefully, but his words did not seem to register. Quickly, he tied a scarf around his neck, and slid Vegeta’s arms into the sleeves, then closed the zipper and hood. He wiggled his limp hands into a pair of thick gloves, and draped the thermal blanket tightly around him.

Vigorously, he frictioned his back, limbs, and hands. “We have to get your circulation back to normal,” he explained, keeping his voice low and calm. _So you don’t die of frostbite,_ he refrained from adding, but continued to calmly explain his actions. Vegeta said nothing, appearing to not see him. “You need to stay healthy to train,” he added, quickly running out of tolerable small talk. Still, the fullblooded Saiyan hadn’t said a word. 

Goten fell silent as well, continuing his first aid ministrations. Vegeta wasn’t complaining, at least, but began to shiver. Wondering if the argument were the real reason for the sake, the former looked wearily at the empty bottle, then up, finally meeting his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Vegeta did not speak, but his expression changed, as though he were studying him. Then his face darkened, and he looked away.

“I guess it’s not my business,” Goten concluded, “But at least come back in.”

Vegeta shook his head, stubbornly pulling the blanket tighter around himself.  

“You’re gonna freeze to death,” Goten underlined firmly, he himself shivering, and bit his tongue to hold his impatience in check. “I left a window unlocked,” he appealed, “Nobody’ll see you.“  

Vegeta shivered harder, but shook his head again.   

“Okay. Then I guess we’ll both sit here until we turn into icicles.” Goten sat with his legs crossed, and rubbed his back harder. Vegeta looked at him strangely, but remained silent. 

The icy wind blew harder as though in agreement, so Goten gave up and held him tightly, thinking fast. His own body heat with the frictioning would work for now, but not for long.  

Vegeta had stiffened, looking puzzled, but gradually relaxed in his unexpected embrace. Goten was not judging him, he realized, intending only to warm him up. He’d heard what was said before Bulma sent him to bed, and it was unlike him to disobey. But his loyalty had been challenged, and the thought almost made him crack a smile. Without thinking, he loosened the blanket to wrap around Goten as well, his arms closing automatically around him. He was admittedly warm and comfortable.  

Goten’s eyes widened in astonishment, then closed at the warm thrills that caused his heart to swell and knock at his ribs, an elated giddiness making his head spin. Like Vegeta’s own, his hands slowed to a slow stroke. His senpai’s head rested lightly on his shoulder while he spaced out.  

Now, it was for Goten to look after Vegeta - not that he would dare to tell him that - instead of the reverse. He felt proud and needed, bringing to light in him a protective affection. Impetuously, Goten leaned down to kiss his cheek.     

Vegeta only looked at him curiously, and blinked. He was adorable. Wondering if his lips felt as nice, Goten lifted his face for a soft kiss. When he remained silent, he kissed him again, elated when Vegeta kissed him back as softly. Goten held him close, wishing he could do this all night.  

Suddenly realizing what was happening, Vegeta shoved him away, flinching back as though burnt. _“What the hell am I doing!?”_ he exclaimed, bewildered, “I can’t _think!”_ An unexpected flood of silent tears froze on his face, and he tried without success to stagger to his numbed feet.

“I’m sorry!” Goten blurted with a sharp stab of guilt, “I didn’t mean it that way.” Vegeta’s horrified look, caused by himself, was intolerable. “It was my fault… I won’t do it again. Please, don’t be mad.” His face turned pleading.

Vegeta slumped, avoiding his regard. “I can’t think,” he repeated dully.  

The slurr in his voice made Goten feel like an asshole, but his determination did not waver. “Because you’re cold, and you need to sleep,” he told him firmly. As he did not argue this time, Goten simply lifted him around the ribs, and flew them to the window he’d left unlocked.  

“Wha'the…"  Vegeta muttered, but trying to speak was oddly exhausting, and he sensed that the demi Saiyan knew what he was doing. His awareness was slowly fading again, anyway.    

Goten opened the window to let them in, locking it again behind them. It was next to Vegeta’s room, and they easily passed unnoticed.  

Goten brought his limp form inside, closed the door, and turned on a lamp. Vegeta’s clothes were wet and cold, he noted critically. He looked around, taking a set of towels and his pyjamas that were set aside, and went to work.

He set a towel on the bed and sat him down, quickly peeling off his clothes to vigorously dry him off. Satisfied, he slid him into his long pyjamas, then hung the damp clothes and coat on a radiator. He pulled back the bed covers, indicating for him to get in, but Vegeta was out of it again.

Goten moved him into place, then tucked the covers tightly around him. Ironically, he began shivering more, so Goten resumed frictioning his back. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay until you’re better,” he told him hesitantly. He glanced at a chair in the corner and bit his lip, hoping he still trusted him.  

Vegeta was silent again, and kept his eyes averted. After a few moments, his hand closed around Goten’s arm, which he pulled slightly, still looking away.  

Goten blinked, surprised. “You mean…?”

Vegeta made room in the bed, still lightly gripping his arm.   

“Uhm… okay.” Timidly, Goten kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers beside him, reminding himself not to creep him out.   

Again, Vegeta surprised him by pulling him closer. He was still cold, Goten realized. He reached to turn off the lamp, and carefully took him in his arms. 

A few minutes later, he was warm enough to relax. One hand exploringly touched Goten’s face and hair, both incredibly soft, before his arm settled around him.

That was ridiculously comfortable, Goten thought, both purring softly as their heavy eyelids closed. He smiled in the darkness at how easily he could get used to this.   
*  
 ** _POV: Vegeta_**  
-:-  
The next morning, Vegeta groggily awoke to find himself unusually warm. It was probably a pile of cats, who knew that he allowed them to stay when the room was cold.

There was a draft from his window, of which he said nothing, as a big deal would be made of renovations. Being a creature of habit, he disliked disruptions. 

It was still early, he sensed, and without opening his eyes, decided he could sleep some more. For once, he was glad for the cats’ presence.

_Cats…_ he awoke again a couple of hours later, but there seemed to be many more furballs curled up there than usual. His eyes opened slightly, then wide, to notice his head on Goten’s shoulder, and the demi Saiyan’s arm draped loosely around his back.

“What—!?” He flinched away in alarm, and Goten’s eyes opened as well.  

“Good, you’re awake,” he observed calmly, “Are you feeling better, Vegeta-san?” 

Vegeta blinked, but he was not dreaming. “What are you doing here?” he blurted, panicked to have no memory of the evening before, except for the bitter aftertaste of sake in his mouth.  

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Goten replied, which was not at all reassuring. Guessing the full-blooded Saiyan’s discomfort, he reached for a fresh bottle of water on the nightstand, and handed it to him, hesitating. “I guess you don’t remember much?”

Vegeta looked around in panic. Goten was still wearing his regular clothes, and he himself was in his pyjamas. “Gods, no!” he groaned, covering his face, then looked up wildly. “Tell me we didn’t– I didn’t–!”

Goten’s face was blank for a moment, before he guessed his thought. “No,” he replied quickly, “I can explain–”

“Explain what?” Vegeta demanded, “I don’t remember changing clothes!“  

“Calm down a second!” Goten hurried to the radiator, and brought over his still damp clothing. “You drank too much and went outside. It was freezing out, so I brought you in and changed your clothes. I just stayed to keep you warm. You were kind of out of it, so I just wanted to make sure you’d be okay. Do you remember anything at all?”

Vegeta frowned and took a few sips of water, thinking. Indeed, he’d drank way too much, a practice of which he normally disapproved - a pounding headache confirmed that - an argument, for some reason he’d been out in the blizzard, and… His face paled, and his eyes darkened.  

“You see?” Goten prompted encouragingly, “That was all.“  

Vegeta looked away. “Then why do I remember you kissing me?” he asked dully. And himself kissing him back, he refrained from adding, wholeheartedly wishing the earth would swallow him.  

Goten looked down at his turn. “Because I did,” he admitted with embarassment, quickly adding, “But I didn’t mean it that way. You told me to stop, and I did. Again, I’m sorry.“  

“And how exactly did you ‘keep me warm’?” he asked tersely, dreading the answer.  

“You saw how.” Goten’s mouth tightened dejectedly. “Do you think I’m disgusting?“  

“It’s not that,” Vegeta told him dryly, then hissed, _“Think about it, jailbait!”_

Goten looked as though he’d slapped him. “I’d never do that!” he exclaimed indignantly, clenching his fists in his lap.

Vegeta considered him, calming somewhat. “I know you wouldn’t.” He fell silent, becoming conscient of another memory of feeling his life beginning to seep from his being, only a moment before Goten had appeared. “Thanks.“  

Goten looked up slowly, then back down. “It’s normal,” he waved off, replacing the drying clothes. He sat back down on the bed, and put his sneakers back on. He focused on tying the laces, when the door opened without a knock.  

“Well,” Bulma huffed, folding her arms, “I guess you finally saw reas–” At the sight of Goten sitting next to him and tying his shoes, she froze. “Vegeta, I didn’t think even you would stoop so low!” 

_Gods, no,_ Goten mentally groaned.

Vegeta looked up sharply. “What do you mean?” he demanded, aware of his residual anger.

”‘What do you mean?’“ she mocked him. “It looks clear enough!” she yelled, “You slept with him to get back at me. Goten, I hope it was worth it, because I don’t think your parents would agree.“ 

“Gods, you’ve lost your mind!” Vegeta snapped irritably, his attention caught by what seemed like a sudden hammering in his head.  

Goten glared at her, sensing his anger ready to snap. “Oh, you’re gonna tell on me, that I didn’t want my uncle to die of hypothermia? My dad would kick my ass to the moon if I did otherwise!” 

Bulma shook her head sarcastically. “So it was fuck or die, huh? Never mind that you’re illegal as hell. Either you’re as naive as your dad, or as manipulative as your mother.”

“Ooh, someone’s jealous,” Goten taunted back, “Is that the real reason you didn’t want me to help him? Big words, when you didn’t even care! I just brought him in since he was half unconscient, and put him to bed in PJs, but I guess that’s more action than you get.” 

“You, get the hell out of my sight!” she seethed at Goten through her teeth.

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Goten shot back, unphased.  

Over the resulting cacaphony of insults in stereo, Vegeta yelled, “BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP AND GET OUT! My goddamn head’s going to explode!” He levelled his glare at Bulma. “For what you’re about to say, bring me that contract entitled ‘Separation of Goods’ or whatever, and we’ll see those exact details. To what you insinuated, I’m sure I’d remember that. Too bad he only saved my life. Now, everyone out!” He pointed a stern finger at his door.

Goten finished tying his other sneaker, and stood. “Ladies first,” he bade in sarcastic politeness to Bulma’s glare. 

The latter stalked away, muttering to herself.  

Goten hesitated at the door to glance at Vegeta, who’d looked away. Quietly, he closed the door and left the suite, understanding.    
-:-  
With a sigh of relief at the welcome silence, Vegeta swallowed the headache pills that Goten had left for him, and layed back down, rubbing his sore cranium.  

He kept his eyes shut until the pounding subsided, then stared incredulously at the wall. What in the hell was wrong with that woman lately, especially when she was the one having affairs left and right? He was beyond caring anymore, but she was downright sick.

Goten was only thirteen now. _’…And a half,’_ he could almost hear him adding. How could anyone think… he could not bring himself to imagine it.  

Then what _had_ he been thinking when he’d returned his kiss, even for a drunken two seconds? his mind insisted. Somehow, the demi Saiyan had hit a nerve. It had been innocent, meant only for him, and its distorted reflection sullied by another, sickened him. 

Suddenly drained, he curled back up on his side to sleep off the lingering hangover, a brutal reminder of why he did not usually drink.   
-:-  
“I wondered where you went,” Trunks commented later to Goten, “But what’s Mom been yelling about, besides Dad getting drunk?“  

Goten shrugged. “Dunno. They were fighting about something.“  

“I know, but did you hear what they said?” Trunks asked curiously. 

“Just cussing,” Goten replied uncomfortably, “I couldn’t hear anything else.” 

“Me, neither. But why’d she get mad at you?” Trunks asked, puzzled, “Something sarcastic about ‘upstaged by a thirteen year-old’?”

“'Cause she told me to stay out of it,” Goten simplified with embarassment, not wishing for him to hear that.  

“Oh. Well, don’t take it personally. It’ll pass, like always,” his friend told him confidently.    
-:-  
As Trunks predicted, the incident was soon forgotten. The blizzard had ceased, along with the collective neurosis of cabin fever, and routines slowly resumed. 

Even a keen observer may not have noticed the trace of a small snowball, rolling down the slippery, rocky ledge of a rugged mountain that was, in fact, very unstable.  
*  
TBC in Chapter 2…


	2. Chapter 2

**_~2 years later_**  
**_POV: Goten_**  
-:-

After the groundhog’s prediction of an early Spring, the ground had thawed during a tempestuous March, and all of nature had come alive again, fresh and green for a tempered Spring and Summer.

Henceforth, Vegeta quietly kept to himself, Goten noticed. When he was not training alone or sparring with Goku, he either played with Bra, or stayed in his room with a book or the television. 

He knew what was best for himself (well, usually), Goten figured, yet he could not help feeling responsable and concerned.   

He trode lightly across a rolling meadow not far from the Sons’ home, where small rabbits and squirrels hopped through long, windswept grass and wildflowers, until he stood near his father, who was doing handstand push-ups. 

“Hey, Dad,” he greeted, watching him pause in a handstand with perfect balance.  

“Oh, hey, Goten,” Goku replied cheerfully, “Would you like to spar this afternoon?” 

“Sure,” Goten accepted, “But I’d like to talk to you first, if you don’t mind.”

Flawlessly, Goku handsprung to his feet. “What’s on your mind?“  

Goten felt self-consciously small standing next to Goku, though his family assured him that he would catch up in time. “Actually, I mean Vegeta-san,” he specified, “I know he won’t talk to anyone, but maybe you can tell something, since you guys spar all the time.”

Goku considered his youngest, having noticed that he no longer addressed the prince as ‘uncle’. Perhaps the demi Saiyan was just impatient to grow up. “Do you think something’s wrong?” he inquired. 

“I’m not sure, just different. Quiet.” Goten shaded his eyes, looking to the West as though he could see as far. 

“Hm.” Goku tilted his head in thought. “You mean since the blizzard?” He’d heard an abriged version of the incident from Videl, but considered it not so deeply.

Goten hesitated, then nodded, scuffing his shoes.  

“You did the right thing,” Goku affirmed confidently, “But if they got some personal conflict going on, that’s not our business.”

“Yeah, I know, but he acts like he’s mad at me or something,“ he explained, ”I thought maybe you could just… I don’t know, pay attention. You might notice something.” 

Well accustomed to his old comrade’s moodiness, Goku blinked, not considering quiet to be problematic. Then again… “I’ll see what I can do,” he promised, “Go get changed, so we can get some practice in before it rains.” 

Goten looked up at the cloudless blue sky promised by the forecast, but headed back to the house, knowing his father’s weather sense to be spot on. He was as unsuspectedly sharp about many things, which was why he’d asked.

Direct questions did not often go over well with Vegeta, he reflected as he walked back, again wondering why it perturbed him so. 

The last time he’d been at Capsule Corp to train with him and Trunks, he’d tried.  

Having waited until they were out of earshot afterward, he’d approached the fullblooded Saiyan to politely ask, “Is everything okay, Vegeta-san?“  

The latter had paused. “Yeah, why?” he’d asked, puzzled.   
    
“You just seem… thoughtful,” Goten had replied diplomatically, to which the former had rolled his eyes.   

“Only a Son would see thinking as a bad sign,” he’d replied dryly, adding, “You should try it sometime,” as he’d walked away, clearly unaware of how much he did think.  

So he lacked credibility, Goten resigned. As much as it irked him to ask his father’s assistance, the prince saw him as an equal, and Goten was strangely determined to find out. Then again, as far as strange thoughts went, that was nothing.  
-:-

**_POV: Goku_ **

True to his word, Goku quietly kept his eyes peeled during his and Vegeta’s usual three times’ weekly sparring. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, as that was when both Saiyans were the most content. 

It was time to push him out of his comfort zone, Goku thought when they’d finished one day, satisfactorily bruised, scraped, and sweaty beneath the pitiless summer sun.  

He looked down at what was left of his tunic. “ChiChi’s gonna be pissed,” he commented with a sheepish grin, “She just sewed this up, but… it’s dead.“  

“It sucks to be you,” Vegeta replied with an amused smirk, an expression he’d picked up from Trunks and Goten that he decidedly liked. 

“Hehe, yeah. Suppose you could ask Bulma for another one?” he asked innocently.  

“Ask her yourself,” Vegeta brushed off curtly, turning to wipe a streak of blood from one arm.  

“Okay,” Goku agreed cheerfully, “Hey, do you mind if I go back with you to clean up? I promised to take her to dinner tonight, so it’d save me a trip.“  

Vegeta shot him a sharp glance, but reconsidered, as if he had plans, he would not stay long. “If you want,” he settled indifferently, “But I have something to do.”

“Sure, Vegeta.” The two of them took to flight toward West City, and Goku was careful to speak enough to be as usual, though not enough to be too annoying.  

They’d barely set foot in Capsule Corp when Vegeta told Goku, “You know the way. The gravity machine needs fixed.”

“Okay,” Goku replied, but the other Saiyan had already disappeared into the Gravity Room corridor. 

With a mental shrug, he followed Bulma’s ki to the lab, where she and her father were just finishing a repair. “Hey, Bulma,” he greeted cheerfully, “I hope I’m not interrupting too much?“  

She turned around with a smile, removing her lab goggles and coat. “Goku! It’s great to see you,” she told her old friend.  

“We haven’t seen you in awhile,” Dr. Briefs agreed, “I hope you’ll stay for dinner?” 

“That’s nice of you, but I’m taking ChiChi out tonight,” he told them, “I hope I’m not imposing. Vegeta said he’s got something to do in the Gravity Room.“  

“Shyeah.” Bulma turned to her father. “Either you or Trunks gets to clean up the mess. Not me.“  

Goku laughed, though it did not appear to be a joke. “Uhm… yeah. I was hoping you could loan me a new tunic? ChiChi’ll kill me if she sees this after she sewed it up.” 

“Sure, on the condition that you’ll at least stay for a snack,” Bulma replied, “Some decent conversation would be nice around here, for once.“  

“Deal,” Goku agreed with a grin, “I should probably get cleaned up first.” He held up his duffel bag that contained a change of clothes. 

Both nodded. “Please do,” Dr. Briefs agreed.

After a bit of small talk during their snack, Goku headed for the Gravity Room showers, making a mental note to ask Master Roshi for a new gi. Predictably, Vegeta had already finished, so he quickly took his own shower, then changed into a casual shirt and summer shorts. 

Curiously, he poked his head into the Gravity Room proper, where Vegeta was working on the opened gravity chamber, or so it appeared. The digital meter fluctuated erratically from zero to two-thousand, while the actual gravity remained the same. 

“Uh, Vegeta…” Goku began.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” His face was red with frustration at the lack of results of what he thought should be easy enough to repair.  

Goku held up his hands. “No worries. I’m better at breaking things than fixing them.”

What appeared to be a small fuse blew beneath Vegeta’s fingers, sending an electric shock up his forearm, followed by a blue streak of cursing.  

“Don’t you think you should have Trunks help your father-in-law fix that?” Goku asked, adding hastily, “Trunks needs the practice.”

Vegeta’s face reddened angrily. “I see who sent you to imply I’m incapable of fixing a simple–” A louder mini explosion was heard, cutting down the whole power supply to the Gravity Room, leaving only the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the small, round windows. 

Both dove out into the hallway, just in time to avoid a large electric flash that would have toasted them. 

Seeing that Goku had instinctively covered both their heads, Vegeta rolled away, standing with his fists clenched. “It’s genetic, isn’t it?” he hissed through clenched teeth.   

“Huh?” Goku asked in confusion.  

“Goddammit, Kakarot, I don’t need any _help!”_ Vegeta seethed, “Not from you, or anyone!“

Goku blinked. “If it was on our home planet, I’d be executed if I didn’t. Right?”

Vegeta glared at him, not needing to point out that he would probably have been executed long ago. “It was almost repaired when you distracted me!” he declared hautily.  

“Sorry.” Goku knew better, but he also knew better than to say otherwise. 

“Fucking great!” Vegeta threw up his hands. “Now I’ll have to find another place to train until it’s back to normal.“  

Goku thought a moment before offering, “There’s a nice place not far from our house. A quiet meadow, by a forest if you want shade. You can have it to yourself, and if you want to spar with us, just say the word.“   

“I’ll find my own place.” Vegeta turned to stare out a hallway window, his face and voice darkened. “And the only ‘help’ I want is to be left alone.“  

“Alright.” Goku watched him thoughtfully. “I should be going, anyway.“  

Vegeta scowled. “Another thing,” he added without turning around, “I’ve said that before, many times, but your brat seems to think it doesn’t apply to him.“  

Goku was quiet for a moment. “What do you mean?“  

Vegeta turned to stare at him incredulously. “Are you really that naïve?” At Goku’s blank look, he specified, “You’re there to train him. Tell him to stay the hell away from me. I think it would sound better from you than from me.“  

“Vegeta, I know you’re angry, but that’s unfair,” Goku told him reproachfully, “He looks up to you, and thinks you’re mad at him.“  He studied him for a moment, then challenged, “I don’t think you mean it.”

Vegeta turned with a raised eyebrow. “Believe me, Kakarot, if you understood the half of it, you’d thank me.” 

“You’re right, I don’t. But, as you wish.” Goku turned to stare soberly out the small neighboring window. “Do you still want to spar, or is that out now, too?“  

“Not the same thing. See you next time.” Vegeta turned his back entirely in dismissal, that none may read the least in his face.  

Getting the message, Goku left out the side door with a confused heaviness in his chest. Indeed, he didn’t know what he was supposed to understand, perhaps because he was blinded by the pain he knew he would have to cause his youngest son.  
-:-  
**_POV: Goten_**

”…I’m certain he didn’t mean it,“ Goku said again to Goten, looking concerned at his silence, “You’ll see, a week from now he’ll forget all about it.”

Goten nodded mutely, feeling as though he’d been kicked in the gut. He could not bring himself to speak.  

…”You gonna be okay?” Goku asked after a long moment of his silent palor.   

Sensing the alarm in his father’s voice, Goten looked up, nodding. “Yeah,” he managed in a nonchalent if hollow voice, noting the rarity of his father’s suit, and his mother’s dress and pearls, “You and Mom go ahead. I can tell it’s nothing.“  

“That was a lot of trouble for ‘nothing,‘” Goku commented doubtfully, while ChiChi waited quietly in the hallway. “You’ll let me know if not?” When Goten nodded, he conceded, “Alright. Your mom left your plate in the oven. Go to bed early if you like.“  

“Sure. Have a good time.” Goten shut his door as they left, then his blind and curtains, crossly wondering why the sun had to stay up so late in the summer.  

He sat back down on his bed, staring dully at his dark wall as their imagined conversation echoed in his mind.

 _Why?_ Having half a mind to confront Vegeta himself, he slumped down onto his pillow.

 _Who’m I kidding?_ he scorned himself. He would only be fifteen in little over a month. Why would Vegeta have the least interest in him? Because he knew there was nothing left of his couple, and could sense his solitude? Because, drunk or not, he’d felt the sincerity in his returned kiss?  
_(‘What the hell am I doing?!’)_  
_(‘Think about it, jailbait!’)_  
Regret. Now, he only disgusted him.

_No…_

Goten feared he would throw up, and his throat tightened. He raised his head with the intention to get up, and burst into a flood of unexpected, hot tears. 

That had not happened since he’d been very small, but as there were no witnesses, he did not try to stop them. He clutched his pillow tightly as he often did, this time wishing Vegeta were holding him to say it wasn’t true, that it was all a mistake. 

_But what did I do?_ Nothing. He didn’t even have the nerve to say it to his face, he thought contemptuously. As much as he wanted to coldly tell him that right then, and that he was a fucking coward, at that moment he could not pull it off.

 _He loved him._ As much as he’d tried to deny it to himself, he could not. It did not care how old they were, and that they were both male. Otherwise, such a flat-out rejection would not feel like being stabbed with a dull knife. 

He wanted to believe Goku’s thought, that it was only a rash thing said in anger. He wanted to believe many things that were not true.  

“Asshole!” Goten punched a hole in the wall, as useless as his blind hopes had been, and let it spill out once and for all. Let the poison that had somehow infected his heart spill out now for what it was, to stain his pillow, and disappear once it had dried.

When he finally slumped in exhaustion with no tears left, the sun had set, and he stared into the darkness at what it all amounted to: nothing.  

Their words exchanged had not even concerned him, he thought flatly. Though he’d given up on wondering why Vegeta had passively struck out at him, a possibility occured to him.

Certainly, he didn’t doubt that Goten would personally demand an explanation. 

Well, he would not give him the satisfaction. Of that, he was firmly resolved.  
-:-  


**_POV: Goku_ **

Like his wife, Goku awoke cheerfully the next morning. They’d had a great time out for dinner and dancing, like an unofficial second honeymoon. Now that their youngest could fend for himself, they should do so more often, they’d agreed. Wearing a suit was a small price for that. ChiChi even made his favorite breakfast, an admittedly eccentric mix of pancakes and baked eel with rice balls.

“I think I threw my back out dancing,” she commented, “Guess I’m not twenty anymore.“  

“Are you sure it was from dancing?” Goku joked, ducking a head-cuff.  

“Baka.” ChiChi punched his arm, but looked again toward the hallway. “Goten didn’t touch his plate last night,” she worried, “It’s already late, and I called him twice already.“  

Goku sobered, but said only, “We trained hard yesterday. Let him sleep if he wants to.“  

“Usually, half the refrigerator’s empty,” she persisted, “I don’t like it.“  

Goku pushed away his final empty plate. “ChiChi, he’ll probably be acting strange for awhile. It’ll be hard, but it’s normal.”

“Well, did you talk to him?” ChiChi frowned, consterned.  

He nodded. “Don’t say anything to him. You’ll just have to take my word for it.“  

Goku didn’t have all the answers, and the situation was cruel and difficult for all concerned. Most believed him to be naive, even dumb, though if they looked closer, they would see that nothing could be farther from the the truth. He overlooked what he considered to be trivial, and knew when it was best to see, hear, and speak no evil. This was one of those times, ChiChi could see.  
-:-

**_POV: Goten_ **

It was no surprise that daily life got no easier with time. It was a passive hell, Goten found, with nothing to take his mind off being alive.  

In desperation, he searched for something. There was no alcohol in the house, which he rarely left anymore, unless to spend time alone in his old hideout in the midst of nature. Anyway, alcohol had a nasty taste, and apparently made people even more miserable.   

Remembering a recent incident, he opened his mother’s side of the bathroom medecine cabinet, and took out a prescription bottle.

Under ChiChi’s name, a few labels warned, _Do not exceed prescribed dose, May be habit-forming,_ and _May cause drowsiness._ Intrigued, he took out the fine-print medication notice to skim. Aside from a list of side effects, and things that could go wrong for a small percentage of people, the keywords _euphoria, opiate,_ and _Class 1 narcotic,_ were all he needed to know.  

He filled the water glass to swallow one, then took the bottle back to his room to carefully hide. Doubtfully, he kicked off his shoes and layed down, hoping for some kind of relief.  

A few minutes later, he shut his eyes, smiling slowly. _Dear gods, where has this been all my life?_  
-:-

**_POV: Trunks_ **

One Saturday evening, Trunks dialed Goten’s personal number, frowning. For the last three weeks, when he’d called the Sons’ house number, either Goku or ChiChi had told him Goten was busy, not at home, or some excuse that sounded lame. 

He waited impatiently, getting the answering machine twice before the other demi Saiyan picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Goten– is that you?” His voice sounded strangely faraway, or out of it. “Are you mad at me or something?” he asked in confusion.  

“Yeah, and no.” His voice was flat, and carried no recognition.  

Trunks quickly jumped to the point. “What’s going on with you? I know you don’t have cable. It’s almost time for Galaxy One– Hello?” He stared at the dead receiver, perplexed.  

Trunks turned to his father, who had just entered the room in time to hear the partial conversation. He’d just opened his mouth to ask a question, but he left the room at once, his expression as dark as it had been for quite some time now.  

The demi Saiyan blinked, muttering to himself, “Is there something in the water supply?”  
***

**_POV: Goten_ **

Goten could not get out of training for long, certainly not of school when it picked up in the Fall.  

It was the only time he saw his best friend, who he noticed had begun to look at him with suspicion. 

Trunks finally caught up with him at lunch hour at the end of their first week. As lockers were assigned alphabetically, he was obliged to sprint the long hallway. “Hey, space cadet.“  

“What?” Goten opened his locker, stuffing his books in haphazardly.  

Trunks shut it firmly. “I want an explanation, that’s what. Why’ve you avoided me lately? You haven’t been over in a month, so what gives?”

“You can come to my place, too,” Goten retorted, “Unless it isn’t good enough for you.“  

The purple-haired demi Saiyan blinked at Goten’s flat, robotic voice, and dark, empty stare. He did not look at him, rather through him. “Stop it, you’re creeping me out! What’s with everyone lately? My parents included. Mom ignores dad, and he looks like there’s nobody home.”

Goten paused, then rolled his eyes. “What’s wierd about that?“  

“Whatever. Just tell me one thing - if it’s true it’s nothing I did, why are you avoiding me? And everyone else including your brother, apparently?“  

Goten sighed impatiently. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? If you can’t even respect that…” He shook his head, locking his padlock.  

“Alright,” Trunks resigned, “Let me know when/if you’re approachable.” 

Goten watched him walk away, an expected pang of guilt not happening. He felt practically nothing now, which suited him just fine.

At that moment, a girl with familiar, wavy auburn hair passed him, accompanied by two of her friends. Seeing Goten, she smiled with a wave, which he returned.  

An idea formed in his mind, and a slow smile spread across his face. Her name was Renshen, and last year he’d taken her to the movies. She was beautiful, intelligent, and nice, with all the qualities one could want, and they’d had a good time. 

Afterward, they’d kissed in a beginning makeout, hormones going to all the right places, yet both had awkwardly stopped a few times, realizing that it just wasn’t happening. They’d each apologized, assuring the other that it was cool. 

As it turned out, she’d confided, Renshen had just broken up with someone, and Goten’s mind was also on someone else. He had more respect than to take advantage of her, Goten had honestly told her, which won him a true friend.

He would talk to her after lunch, Goten decided. Perhaps he had an ally, after all.  
-:-  
Recreation… the highlight of the day for some, the nightmare for others. The sporty ones played soccer outside, the bookworms read someplace quiet, the badasses smoked behind the buildings, the bullies bullied, while the popular ones socialized, to each their thing. 

Goten waited until Renshen was away from her girlfriends to approach her, the same courtesy which she’d always accorded him.  

“Hey, Ren,” he greeted her as cheerfully as he could, “Long time no see.”

She turned around, her sparkling green eyes lighting up. “Goten! My gosh, how’ve you been?” Her smile faded a bit to see his drawn, dark shadowed face.  

He nodded with another forced smile. “I hate to bother you. Got a few minutes?“  

“Nonsense, of course I do.” She followed him outside, where they sat beneath a tree away from noise.  

“First, tell me about your summer,” Goten began.

They ended up talking for the whole break, and while they’d agreed not to reveal third-party identities, Goten found himself pouring out the whole story. Added to it her input, worth gold.

He would so owe her a favor, Goten thought when the bell rang. He walked back in, arm in arm with his partner in crime, or as the school saw it, his girlfriend.  
-:-

Friday night came soon enough, time to put his real plan to action. Goten picked up Ren in his mother’s car for the drive to West City, which he hid just far enough away from Capsule Corp. 

He stepped back to admire her sexy black minidress with the works. “All I can say is wow,” he commented with a wink and a thumbs-up. _What a waste on a loser like me,_ he thought bitterly. Why could he have not fallen for her instead?  

“C'mon, I pale next to you,” she encouraged, “But I already want to punch whoever… sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Goten replied coldly as they walked, “In a way, you will. Hopefully.”

They were quiet until they reached the property of Capsule Corp, then Goten easily led her past the sensors of the security drones. They snuck to the living room window, where he sensed two familiar Saiyan ki, and peeked inside. Indeed, Trunks and Vegeta were talking, though their voices could not be heard. 

"There,” Goten pointed them out, “Trunks should see, since he’s seen us at school. It’s him I’ll mostly talk to. The guy next to him’s his dad. He’s the one who’s gotta see and hear it all."  

"Huh?” Rensen asked in confusion.  

“Word will get back from him to the real witness,” Goten explained cleverly, “Like we said, just be the pretty, polite young lady every parent would love. Suck up more to his mom, though. She has short blue hair."  

"Ah, okay.” Rensen grinned. “I feel like a spy.”

“Absolutely enjoy yourself,” Goten replied, “Probably everyone will just act normal, but you get it. Ready?” He offered his arm, which she classily took, and nodded.  

When they reached the door, Goten purposefully stepped on an invisible laser, which set off the intruder alarm. That would get his attention. A few seconds later, he rang the doorbell. 

Bulma opened the door while Trunks and Vegeta were prepared to attack. “Goten? What happened? You scared me to death,” she told him. She motioned for them to enter, questioningly studying Rensen, who was still latched on Goten’s arm.

“Oh, please excuse me, ma'am,” Rensen gushed, a picture of remorse, "Goten told me to be careful, but I slipped on a leaf. I’m so sorry.”

“No harm done,” Bulma brushed aside, "Is this your pretty girlfriend, Goten?” 

“Yeah.” Goten grinned shyly, and smoothly made introductions, purposefully introducing the adults as ‘Uncle Vegeta’ and ‘Aunt Bulma’. “You know Trunks.” They exchanged friendly nods and handshakes.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Briefs,” Ren replied humbly with a bow, not knowing any better.  

“The pleasure is mine,” Bulma returned sincerely, “Shame on you, Goten, for hiding such a lovely girl,” she chided playfully, “I hope you make her my niece someday.” Goten only grinned, purposefully scratching his head in classic Goku-style.

While the two females were talking enthusiastically, Goten turn to ask Trunks in faux-discretion, “Hey, can you lend me your silver car this weekend? I can bring it back Sunday, unless you’re up really late Saturday.” 

“Sure, no problem.” Trunks fished the key from a drawer and tossed it to him. “Take your time,” he invited, relieved to see Goten looking happy again.  

“Thanks, I mean really!” Goten exclaimed. He pretended all was normal and to barely notice Vegeta, but secretly observed him.

The latter had gone from rolling his eyes to silence, his face stiff. 

Obliviously yet perfectly timed, Trunks remembered, “I thought the other girl, An-Li, liked you?”

Goten shrugged. “Like an old adage says, ‘who goes off hunting, loses their place.’ In French, it rhymes.” 

Vegeta had already left the room, his face pinched tightly, but he knew he’d heard.

Goten glanced at his watch. “Well, hate to run off, but we should be going,” he told the group, “We’ll be late for the movie."  

"Of course.” Bulma placed a hand on one shoulder each to escort them out. “You better bring her back,” she told Goten, who held up a peace sign.  

Both waved as they left in Trunks’ silver luxury car.

Once gone, Goten realized they actually had nothing to do, and his mask fell. "We could really go see a movie. It’d be a shame to be all dressed up with noplace to go.” 

“Okay. Don’t worry, I can’t stand ‘chick flicks,’”, she replied lightly at his dark mood, “You like Galaxy One, right? It’s supposed to be as good as the series.”

”'It’s my favorite. I still owe you a huge favor, though,“ Goten promised. 

Honor and kindness were part of his nature. He was kind to everyone, but if one did mistake his kindness for weakness, weak would not be the way they would remember him.  
***  
TBC in Chapter 3…


	3. Chapter 3

**_10 months later_ **

-:-  
ChiChi emerged from the bathroom one evening, distraught, having almost turned it upside down. She wandered into the living room, where her son was mindlessly watching TV.  

“Goten, have you seen my pain pills in the medicine cabinet?” Smelling of menthol and camphor, she held a tube of pomade for back pain, the price of she and Goku holding to their wish of going out more often. 

“No,” Goten replied indifferently, staring at a digital courtroom scene, with no idea of what it was about. 

“I didn’t think so,” his mother waved off as she turned to leave, “Never mind, there are two refills left.” 

_“‘Your Honor, we motion that the Court take into consideration the attenuating circumstances of my client’s act,’” the defendant’s lawyer on TV stood to add._

Perhaps there was something to be said for poetic irony.  
-:-  
The next day after school, Goten waited for Rensen to walk her to her bus, as always. Everyone was restlessly impatient for summer vacation to start.  

“Hey, Goten,” she began cheerfully when she appeared, “How’d you do on the math test?”

“Dunno,” Goten muttered apathetically as they walked. The buses were late as usual, so they sat down on a bench.  

Rensen frowned to herself at the dull expression on her friend’s face, which looked darker than ever. In an attempt to lighten his mood, she asked, “Was your mom serious about kidnapping me if I didn’t accept for dinner tomorrow?“  

Goten scowled. “I had to have my dad make her quit talking about ‘future grandbabies.’” Clearly, ChiChi didn’t realize how much worse she was making his situation. “It’s her way of saying she likes you,” he smoothed over at her consterned look.

Ren was unconvinced. “Are you okay?” she asked in a lowered voice, disliking his unsteady gait, and dazed expression. 

Goten nodded with a tired sigh. “Ren, this charade isn’t fair to you. I know you’ve liked a guy for almost a year now, and he won’t ask you out thinking you’re seeing me. Anyway, the plan obviously isn’t working.” That much was true, and keeping up the appearance was getting as exhausting as it was useless. And she did deserve better.  

“I’m still your friend.” Ren squeezed his forearm as firmly as her voice. “And I think Trunks is right to be worried. Anyway, the other guy goes to a different school, so he doesn’t even know you.”

Goten only stared quietly at the ground, and at that moment, the line of buses pulled up to the curb.  

“Promise we’ll talk tomorrow?” she insisted. 

Goten looked up at the urgency in her voice, nodding. “Yeah.” 

She leaned down to kiss his cheek, squeezing his shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Goten. You’re the best friend I have.” She turned slowly, and he watched her board her bus.

He waited until the buses drove away, before slowly walking a couple of blocks to a deserted alley, then took to flight. Enough was enough. Now, it was simply ridiculous.  
-:-

Goten flew for a distance, in no hurry, and with no specific destination in mind. All that was important to him was to get away. Someplace where he could be alone, not be found, and just forget it all. 

He was beyond anger, nor feeling sorry for himself, nor feared anything more. Shit happened. He was no different than some poor bastard in the wrong place at the wrong time, and run over by a truck. So many people died at a young age, he knew, and were buried at an old one, their only true goal being some escape.

He found a mid-sized, unfamiliar forest, and landed amidst a thicket of trees beside a quiet stream. It was not his own hidden place, which would not be appropriate. This one would do. 

He sat on the grass and leaned against a willow tree bent over the water’s edge, staring emptily at the sparkling stream. In the distance, he spotted a falcon. It soared gracefully against the blue sky, circled him a few times, then landed on a tree branch not far. They were messenger birds, Goku had told him, but he ignored it. A crow would be more fitting, he thought grimly, and reached into his pocket. 

He shook out the remaining generous handful of pills, then stood up and knelt by the stream. Obtaining the two refills had not been difficult, nor had been finding a doctor to prescribe more. No more difficult than cupping one hand, and bringing enough water to his mouth to swallow them all. 

He sat beneath the willow again, and closed his eyes, waiting for the familiar euphoria to carry him away. It was over three times as much as he usually took, but he was becoming too accustomed, and needed more right now. Just a few minutes…  
-:-

“What the hell are you doing out here, whelp?” an indignantly accusing voice demanded, “This is my training spot, so go elsewhere!”

Goten’s eyes opened to see the only person capable of making his heart sink like lead to the pit of his stomach, though he was too numb to care. “This forest is big enough for an army,” he retorted flatly, “And I was here first.”

“You’re not even training!” the prince continued, his voice turning caustic, “Where’s the girl? You could be getting a piece of ass.“  

” ’s not like that!“ Goten seethed back, unaware of his voice beginning to slur, “Sh'visiting ‘er grandparents t'day.”

“Pfff. You finally get some pussy, and you think you’re a man,” Vegeta began disgustedly, hesitating at the strange voice and ki emanated by the demi Saiyan. He stepped forward to inspect the anomoly, but did not smell any alcohol. Still… “What are you on?” His voice had lowered, and rang of morbid curiosity.

“Nothin’.” Goten’s eyes closed partway as the other’s voice seemed to fade. “…sleepy,” he mumbled. The tingling that always began in his limbs spread quickly to the rest of his being, and he slowly smiled.  

“Goten?” The bitter sarcasm had faded from Vegeta’s tone, and may have sounded like concern from someone else. “Answer!” he commanded, the alarm in his voice not making sense to Goten. He felt just fine. 

“I mean it!” Vegeta had knelt beside him, peeling back his eyelids to note his pupils shrunken to pinpoints, then felt his pulse, which was abnormally low. “What did you take?” he demanded, frantically emptying his backpack. Only a textbook, notebook, and pens spilled out. “Goten!” Panicked, he slapped his face several times, shaking him hard by the shoulders. 

The teen did not react, but an orange bottle had fallen out of his jeans pocket. Vegeta seized it with shaking fingers, his face paling in recognition of the label on the empty bottle. 

“No!” Vegeta heard himself yelling in panic, “You didn’t!” Again he slapped his face repeatedly, half aware of his own vision blurring wet as he dragged his limp form to the edge of the stream. He was fading fast.

Vegeta held Goten’s face over the stream’s surface, splashing it again and again with the icy water. _“DON’T DO THIS TO ME!”_ he was screaming, “Punch me out, beat the shit outa me in my sleep, but _don’t leave me!_ GOTEN!” Out of despair at feeling his ki so weak, he quickly plunged the demi Saiyan’s face into and back out of the cold water.

“Hn?” Goten managed, then spoke no more.

_Yeah, that's it… Barely hearing his faraway voice, Goten was lighter than air, his etherical body floating higher than the birds and clouds, higher still, warmed by the sun, then drifting past it until his world looked dark, and felt cold. But that was okay._

_Cool, I’m in space,_ was his last coherent thought, then quiet. So quiet…

_"No! Goten, please!”_ Vegeta held Goten in his lap, his back shaking in silent sobs to feel his lifeless form. “You’ll never know I… couldn’t just… I said that because…” It was difficult to speak around sobs so intense they barely made a sound, muffled against his shoulder. “You idiot, I… love you!”

But it was too late. Too late, because it had been himself the idiot, and now his only wish was to join him…

Vegeta bolted upright, remembering the pouch Goku had given him. The other Saiyan knew at what point he overdid his workouts now, having twice landed himself in the hospital. He’d tied,to his waistband the precious pouch, that contained his only hope now.

Goten’s eyes opened wide, brutally awakened by what was choking him. Fingers were removed from his throat, and he instinctively swallowed the familiar, bitter green taste of a senzu bean.

However, it was nothing next to the astonishment of finding himself cradled in Vegeta’s lap, with his memory intact. All he hadn’t properly heard, he could remember nonetheless. While he’d been unconscient, he’d had the eery impression of returning, standing next to his physical body, and of changing his mind. He’d no longer wanted to fly away, but to reintegrate his body. And that, because of what he’d somehow heard. All those months ago, Vegeta had made him want to die, and today he’d made him want to live again. 

Goten looked up into his piercing black eyes, now carelessly drenched and reddened, mirroring back the very same things. An exact reflection that rendered words unnecessary. Only a long, and much-needed embrace, that felt like a collective sigh of relief from all of nature around them.

-:- 

The resulting silence was awkward, both lost in thought for a time. Vegeta had sat Goten upright in his lap, otherwise neither moved.

The full-blooded Saiyan had been forced to see what he’d refused to acknowledge, in the same way he’d pushed Goten’s face into the icy water in despair. _He could not love him. It was unacceptable._ What had endlessly droned in the back of his mind for… how long?… like a worn-out, broken record, had been snapped in half by the cruelest of revelations, making his former thought now seem trivial. If not for blind luck, the demi Saiyan would be dead now, by his own hand, and Vegeta’s words. No, he could never have lived with that.

Goten’s face was a frozen mask, torn between relief and horror. _What have I done?_ his own inner broken record droned, for a different reason now. All this time, he’d believed Vegeta unaffected, yet he’d almost destroyed him. He, too, was shocked to silence. His perpetual shield had been pierced, which gave him an insight to his senpai’s own thoughts.

Though both kept their eyes averted, Goten saw the falcon that had remained perched the whole time as though watching them, take to flight.

“Something I remember from the afterlife,” Vegeta mumbled randomly, pausing to clear his parched throat, “I was told souls who idly took their own life couldn’t be brought back, even by the Dragons.“ He scowled, still looking at the ground.

When the meaning of his words sunk in, Goten protested, “But I wasn’t trying to die. Just get high and forget for awhile. Guess I OD’d.” He mentally rewound his own words, frowning. “I know, it was dumb.”

“Yes, it was,” Vegeta snapped bitterly. He looked away, but his fingers unconsciously dug into his back.

“I’m sorry.” Goten clutched him tighter. He knew his apology to be a lame understatement, but Vegeta seemed to accept it. “Wait, you know what they are?”

“Bulma once needed a… root canal?” he remembered, “and those same pills. They made her wierd and sleepy, so she explained what they are.” He hesitated. “Are you addicted?”

“A little,” Goten admitted ashamedly, “You must think I suck.“  

Vegeta scowled, knowing himself to be the cause of them. “No, you don’t suck. But you have to slowly stop. I’ll see to it myself, if you don’t want your parents to know. You’ll stay with Trunks as usual otherwise, okay?”

Goten nodded reluctantly, considering that to be fair enough. “Thanks. I don’t wanna hear it from my mom.” He paused in thought. “I really thought you hated me.”

“Likewise,“ Vegeta informed him dully, “The things you want now are normal,” he continued, “Not that I can blame you, but tell me the truth. Am I really so easily replaced?”

Goten looked puzzled for a moment, before comprehending. “She’s just a friend,” he admitted with more embarassment, “A good friend, but just a normal one. I don’t sleep with her or anything.” 

“That’s not the impression you gave,” Vegeta added dryly, “She looked like she couldn’t wait for you to rip her slutty clothes off her.” If he sounded no older than Goten, he didn’t seem to care. 

“Just to make you jealous,” Goten confessed, “She went along with it. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work.” 

Vegeta looked pained in his search for words. “It’s not that, Goten. I understand your hormones wanting a ride, and you can’t be mine yet. It’s what looked to me like an open rejection.”

“See?” Goten reproachfully pointed out, “Why can’t I be yours? You’re the one who rejected me, and you still do. Would two more years and a couple months’ve mattered on the old planet?”

“We only measured ki and physical development,” Vegeta agreed, “But it’s different here.“ And he’d been on Earth long enough to be accustomed to its way of life, he needn’t add. 

“Like anyone needs to know.” Goten looked away, not trusting his voice.

Vegeta studied him, carefully choosing his words. “You seem to think it’s easier for me, constantly questioning my own sanity. Should I have told you to not be around me, because I ‘just can’t’ resist temptation? Haven’t you thought that I have more respect for you, and that you’re more to me than that?”

“Oh.” No, Goten had not thought of it that way. “Well, thank you,” he replied, also carefully weighing his words. “But don’t you know you’re more to me than just the target of some crazy hormones? Okay, that too. But it wouldn’t make it go away, Vegeta. Nothing will. Don’t you know it’s you who are more to me than that? You… you’re everything to me. I just need you to show me that.” 

Vegeta smoothed his hair back, remembering too well how soft it felt. “Of course you do. I’m just asking you for some patience. Can you do that for me?”

Goten nodded soberly, gingerly placing his hands on his shoulders. “You know I respect you. Can you just show me what I never thought you’d ever say?” His eyes shone sincerely, and Vegeta felt himself lost in their wide, black depths, too late to resurface.

Goten was already lost in Vegeta’s slanted, piercing eyes, which shone and softened now for him. Drawn together as strongly as by gravity itself, slowly they were enclosed in a true embrace, their lips connecting. Softly and hesitantly, but sincerely. 

At first, that was all they wanted, their heads spinning with another, better kind of euphoria. The fact that the warm lips and embrace of the other was very real, put even their most daring fancies to shame.

Goten stood on a fine line between cute and desirable with perfect balance, Vegeta mused, which drove him insane.

Sensing it, Goten’s desires pushed him to deepen the kiss, deftly straddling him to indulge what he’d suppressed for so long.

As much as Vegeta’s being screamed at himself to shut up for more, he knew how quickly and very easily it could all go too far, and he didn’t want it to so soon. It would ruin something more important.

“Calm down.“ He took Goten’s cheeks gently in his hands. “Hold still.” Softly, he kissed the demi Saiyan’s lips and face, slowly and as many times as he wished. Often he’d dreamed of doing so, half the time drifting off to sleep before anything more. Goten closed his eyes obediently, understanding, and allowing what had been scraped raw somewhere within them begin to be soothed.

“I know,” Vegeta acknowledged their mutually obvious desires, which knew no better, and meant no harm. Goten had always been there for him, and he would show the demi Saiyan that he was there for him. Locking Goten’s intense regard, he told him firmly, “I’ll wait for you. I promise.”

Stunned to silence for a moment, Goten held him tightly. “Me, too,” he promised in return, “There’s nobody else, and there won’t be.”

“You see now you’re already mine?” Lazily, Vegeta played with his hair. “You’re the only one who knows about this place,” he reflected at what seemed ironic.

“Really?” Goten looked up, surprised. “I have a place no one knows about, too,” he confided, hesitating. “I’d like to bring you there, if you want.”

“Sure,” Vegeta replied curiously, “Where is it?”

“There isn’t much to see right now,” Goten told him mysteriously, “It’s better in the Spring.” 

“Alright,” Vegeta accepted, intrigued. Much about Goten intrigued him, which was seemingly endless.

They talked for a long time, answering some questions, while opening others. As of now, the hidden facet of their relationship was strange and contradictory, as it could not accurately be called a relationship yet.

It was near early evening when they agreed it was time to go, first stopping by the Sons’ home for Goten to pack a few things as well as the rest of the pills, as he’d promised. His parents would find it strange for him to be going there after such a long, deliberate absence, though it should not be difficult. Goten insisted on a last kiss, which would be rare, before they took to flight.

-:- 

Goten politely stood aside for Vegeta to enter first as he let them in, startled to be greeted by a stern look from Goku, who stood with his arms crossed.

“Goten, we’ve given you a break so far,“ the former began, “But this time, you’ll have to explain.” He set a new bottle of ChiChi’s prescription, with a few sheets of paper, on the coffee table. “I think it’s better me than your mother,” he added when Goten coldly looked away. At his silence, he demanded confoundedly, “Their misuse is dangerous! Why didn’t you tell someone about it?”

“He did,” Vegeta affirmed, backing up his lack of surprise.

“When?” Goku turned his darkened gaze at him.

“Today,” Vegeta replied, matching his firm tone, “I already asked the same questions, and made him promise to let me sever him. I didn’t think you knew.”

Goku nodded to himself in thought. “At least someone here will talk. Why don’t we step outside a minute, Vegeta.”

“Sure,” the other Saiyan replied, with a nod at Goten’s sharp look.

Vegeta followed him to the back yard, watching curiously as he turned his back.

“I’m guessing you had this talk a few hours ago,” Goku said aloud, as though to himself.

“Yeah, why?” Vegeta asked curiously.

“Because for several seconds, his ki got very faint, then almost vanished,” Goku reported tersely, “Then suddenly, it was back to normal.” At Vegeta’s affirmative silence, he asked, “Is the senzu bean I gave you still in your pouch?” His voice suggested he already knew the answer.

Vegeta was silent at his turn, before confirming, “No.”

Goku wasn’t surprised at that, but was otherwise confounded. “What I don’t get, is that you avoided each other for months. Then suddenly, you saved his life and everything’s apparently fine.”

Vegeta nodded. “I didn’t know why he performed so poorly the last few times he trained with us. I lost my temper, said why does he bother training, and much worse. I guess I took my own problems out on him. I saw him today by dumb luck, also that it’s for me to fix.” 

Goku studied him, sensing a missing piece. “Yeah, that’s understandable. But that it should be the real cause of whatever the problem is… just doesn’t add up.”

“True,” Vegeta agreed, “But wasn’t it you who always said that what’s told in confidence should be respected?”

Goku considered his comrade with a new kind of respect, knowing there to be more than met the eye, and that it concerned a considerable change for them all. Yet, he also knew he could count on him. “Thanks, Vegeta.” He clapped him on the shoulder, adding in a lowered voice, “Take care of him.” Vegeta nodded, and Goku turned back toward the house, certain that he would. Though, at what cost?

-:- 

TBC in Chapter 4…  
(til next update!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secretly together now, Goten and Vegeta can't escape the reality of maintaining a difficult relationship, and of course their own demons...

**_Later that day~_ **

The last hours of sunlight over West City simmered into the ground, leaving clouds of humidity radiating from the pavements, and mingling with the methane stench of pollution in busier areas. It was much worth the detour to avoid, the Z-gang agreed.

To say that the other residents of Capsule Corp were surprised to see Vegeta casually enter with Goten, was putting it mildly.

The former calmly told them, "Goten will be staying here for awhile. I'm seeing to his training."

"It's about time," Trunks replied, with a morbidly curious glance at Goten.

Misunderstanding Bulma's raised eyebrow, he said merely, "If you want to hear the same from Kakarot and ChiChi, go ahead."

She only shrugged, "Fine with me," as she left the room, mumbling, "Guess we're worthy again."

Vegeta paused at the computer in the adjoining office. "I'll need some time and information," he told the demi Saiyans, "Go on and put your things away."

Trunks was already dragging Goten off, looking relieved that he seemed closer to normal again. "C'mon, I'm tired of playing against the machine. And I need someone with reflexes."

When they'd left, Vegeta spent a good three hours on the appropriate medical research, before shutting off the screen to rub his eyes. People of Earth had strange problems. While the process was tedious, frustrating, and required real medical advice, the results were worth it, he noted with satisfaction. Still, he hoped to whatever gods who may be listening, that the actual experience would be anything short of hellish.

-:-

As he set up his state-of-the-art game console, Trunks glanced at the other demi Saiyan a few times, before venturing, "Goten, I can tell whatever this is about is really hard." He hesitated, adding, "Let me know if there's anything I can do."

Goten nodded slowly. "Thanks. I just got too much to think about right now."

"That's cool," Trunks replied as they began playing. Certainly his father had bluntly told him to cut the bullshit, yet he hoped he hadn't been too hard on him. A few minutes into the game, he remembered, "Weren't you supposed to see Ren today?"

Goten looked blank, then face-palmed. "Tomorrow. You mind if I call her from here?"

Trunks shook his head. "I can step out."

"No need," Goten replied. Sensing the other demi's thought, he half owned up, "We're just friends now."

"What happened?" Trunks hadn't been easily surprised by Goten for quite some time.

"No drama. It's just better a good friend than a half-assed relationship," Goten shrugged off simply, taking his phone from his pocket.

"I guess so," Trunks agreed. He fell silent while Goten dialed, turning to look busy tidying a pile of books.

"Hey, Ren," Goten greeted cheerfully when she picked up, "…Fine, why?… Oh. I'm at Capsule Corp. … It's okay now. … Several days I guess. … Uhm, later, okay? … Nothing's 'up.' My uncle thinks my technique sucks. … Listen, about that, they know. … Sure, it's cool." After a long pause, he asked, "Is everything okay? … Yeah tomorrow. … Ciao." Goten hung up, and slid the phone back into his pocket.

Wondering at how much more natural the conversation sounded than usual, Trunks commented, "Mom loves her, but Dad can't stand her."

"Why?" Goten asked innocently.

"He basically told me she's a hoe, and he'd kick my ass if I ever got with one," Trunks recounted, "Don't know why he thought that. She's one of the good girls."

"Maybe she reminded him of someone," Goten pretended to guess, and they went back to their game. Building new lies to cover old ones had become second nature to him; the problem was, it was not in his nature at all.

-:-

Despite a bit of expected uneasiness, it eventually and gradually settled. By the end of the evening, everything seemed more like it used to be, as much as it were possible now.

Having done more research on what he knew too little about, it was well after dinner when Vegeta called Goten into the smaller, adjacent office. He motioned for him to sit on a couch in the corner before taking a seat himself, but remained silent at first, propped on his elbows in reflection.

Finally he told him, "It's like I thought, you have to take smaller doses in time. About every two or three days. As many as you're used to, the rest of your stash won't be enough. But I can get more, until you're done."

Goten nodded mutely, feeling considerably awkward. The current subject was embarassing enough in itself, and he hadn't the least idea of how he was to speak and behave around Vegeta now.

The latter appeared no more comfortable than himself, but continued, "The specialists who published this stuff…" He pointed to his folder of printed research on the desk. "…all advise exercise. Meaning training is more important than ever, for times of peace."

Goten nodded again. That made sense. At times, he almost forgot that he even had a body, and knew how pathetic his technique had become. Appearing thus, by witness of Vegeta of all people, was unacceptable in his own esteem.

Vegeta's eyes remained fixed on the floor. "For the week of school left, just get through it. I understand your mother is letting you quit after this year?"

"Yeah," Goten mumbled, also looking down at his sneakers. He was sixteen now, and that had been settled.

Vegeta explained the process at length, sounding oddly knowledgeable. He had a chameleon-like potential of blending in almost anywhere if he wished, some of the Z-gang noticed. "You're awfully quiet tonight," he commented after a long pause.

Goten looked up and quickly back down, feeling his cheeks flush. "Sorry. I'm just not sure how to act now."

Vegeta nodded his understanding, his voice becoming dull. "Like you've said too much?"

"That, too."

Vegeta was quiet at his turn, frowning. "Yeah, it's uncomfortable." Indeed, what he'd blurted in a state of panic was light years from his idea of normal.

Be that as it may, Goten thought, Vegeta didn't BS him. The irony of him saving Goten's life as he had his own a few years before, was unsettling.

To break a bit of the tension, Goten asked, "How did you know so much about that, if Bulma just had them once? Before, I mean."

"Twice, actually," Vegeta recalled, "You might not remember when she went into the hospital, and looked what your mother called 'well rested' three months later?"

"No, what happened?" Goten asked, morbidly intrigued.

"It did look painful. While her face healed, it was bruised in unusual colors, and swelled up just like Hercule's Buu," Vegeta recalled, "It was a joke at the time." There were no such lighthearted jokes anymore, he needn't add.

"Hey!" Goten protested, remembering just then, "After what she told Videl, me and Trunks went to a lot of trouble to get her that special water."

A glance brought a nervous laughter, but it somewhat broke the ice.

"What?" Vegeta asked at Goten's strange look when they were quiet.

"Once when you fought, I heard you say Yamcha-san wasn't good in bed," Goten asked, "How do you know?"

"She told me that long ago, and I believed her," Vegeta replied simply, but blinked. "Maybe she was just bitter. Do you have such a filthy mind?"

"You'll find out," Goten replied innocently, "Later, I guess."

"Cut it out, it's not gonna work," Vegeta affirmed stubbornly.

"Just curious," Goten retorted, "She also said you almost killed her. Not my business really, but I hope that was exaggerating."

Vegeta rolled his eyes impatiently. "I accidently broke her arm once. Is it dumb questions day?"

Goten shrugged. "Just wondering what I'm in for. You won't have that problem with me, though," he commented with a smirk at the other's expression.

Vegeta slumped. "Don't put me through too much hell."

"I'm the one about to go through hell," Goten reminded him, his perfect hindsight kicking himself.

"Not if it's done right," Vegeta encouraged.

Goten cringed. "Imagine what my mother would do if she thought she could. Problem is, the so-called 'specialists' have no idea what it's really like. They oughta be required to know firsthand, if they're so smart." He looked away, but Vegeta considered him.

"You have a point," he conceded, "I don't know what it's like, either. Maybe I should."

"I didn't mean you!" Goten declared, alarmed.

"Calm down." Vegeta stood to take a small, familiar bag from the desk. "Just one to see what it does, won't do the same to me."

Uneasily, Goten watched him dry-swallow one. "Alright, but don't forget," he warned him flatly, "I've seen you beaten to the edge of death before, not counting what you do to yourself and call it 'training', and never once did you complain about pain."

"Fair enough," Vegeta replied, and sat back down. "How long does it take?"

"About fifteen minutes," Goten replied warily, but Vegeta's confident refusal to be controlled reassured him.

They talked casually for some time, before Vegeta paused with a faint smile. "That is nice," he commented.

"I know, right?" Slowly, Goten enlaced him from behind.

"Taking advantage of me again, are we?" Vegeta teased, not sounding truly opposed to the idea.

"Just a little," Goten replied, glad for the opportunity to hold him. Knowing what effects kicked in when, for the time he did nothing more.

"I don't cringe when you touch me," Vegeta reflected aloud.

Goten blinked. "It's good to know I don't make you cringe," he replied flatly.

"Nah, I mean it's strange," Vegeta explained, "Usually I do, even when I know they mean no harm."

Goten was quiet for a moment. "Because you're more used to battle?"

"I don't know. It's just unusual."

Goten frowned. That would explain several things.

"Damn," Vegeta mumbled under his breath, "If I knew what that did, I'd've taken it instead of drinking."

"Vegeta!" Goten exclaimed reproachfully, "You're supposed to be observing. Like a scientist doing an experiment. In a… scary, unofficial way… you kind of are." It was probably a good thing that he hadn't witnessed what he'd done to the Gravity Room.

"I am observing," Vegeta replied calmly, "Though, what you're doing is an unforeseen, outside factor that may scew any empirical evidence."

Goten only smiled. "It can get empirical."

"Easy," Vegeta replied groggily, "Don't make me think."

"We should totally smoke a joint someday, Vegeta!" Goten declared, "…or maybe not," he corrected hastily at the former's slitted-eyed glance.

"You're incorrigible," Vegeta muttered, "Keep still, I'm trying to– observe."

"You're definitely 'observing,'" Goten assured him, stifling a grin.

"Hmph." Vegeta kept his eyes shut, allowing his head to rest back on Goten's shoulder. It was easy to see the gentle power of such a euphoria, and the way Goten's hand smoothly caressed him while his arms snaked around his chest, brought him another form of bliss.

Goten was tempted to bring them both to sleep thus, but knew better than to get that snowball rolling again. No one must suspect their intentions until he was safely eighteen, they'd agreed. He was doing nothing wrong, he thought defensively, carefully sliding his legs around Vegeta. He reclined them back on a large cushion, before going back to playing with his hair. No complaints was an unspoken green light, Goten had quickly learned.

He was letting himself be seduced to some measure, Vegeta realized. Perhaps Goten didn't know how easy it would be to make him crack if he wished, he thought, but knew he was true to his word. It was a quality he'd come to taking for granted in the Son men. The demi Saiyan's confidence had also taken a considerable blow, Vegeta sympathized, and he felt oddly secure with him. And perhaps something that was elusively more than secure.

It was more than a question of self confidence, he thought dryly at feeling Goten's hardened bulge poking him in the ass. He made a conscious effort not to move, casting the teen a furtive glance of reproach when the same happened to him.

"Sorry," Goten proclaimed helplessly, his cheeks matching the deep burgundy-colored cushion beneath him, "I can't help it."

"No big deal," Vegeta brushed off, "That happens to me a lot, for no reason."

"I noticed," Goten informed him with a smirk, "You have a reason now." He locked his legs around Vegeta's own, slowly stroking his knee with one hand. He kept the gesture on the border of innocence, with an occasional squeeze.

Vegeta kept still, exploring the contrasting, sleepy euphoria, and building desire. _Damn, he's good,_ he silently recognized, settling into their cozily sexy cocoon.

At his senpai's approval, Goten tested his boundaries by slowly moving his hand to his thigh, just suggestive enough to make him squirm.

Vegeta reached down to sternly knock his hand away, but Goten was faster, trapping his legs and elbows, while his socked foot did the same. The former's intended reprimand dissolved like a sweet on his tongue, and he remained quiet. That was exciting as hell. Goten was showing him his power, an enticing challenge in such a naive way.

"You like it which way, or both?" Goten asked in a sultry way that gave him an idea of what the manga he'd seen in his hidden stash were about. What else could he expect from one such as Goten, who would make him very envied on the old planet?

"You'll find out later," Vegeta echoed his earlier retort with a faint smirk.

"Too late to be a hypocrite," Goten informed him, not about to let an opportunity slip away.

Vegeta seized his wrists by surprise, easily gaining the upper hand, and pinned him down firmly, his slanted dark glare alone making his head spin. "If I were a hypocrite, right now I'd suck you off so well you wouldn't know what hit you, then screw you into this couch so hard you couldn't breathe before you finally pass out. Or something like that, but we can look forward to it," he settled, before following through with a long, deep kiss that started out hard and aggressive, gradually softening at just the timing he liked and responded to so nicely.

At length, Goten's breathing slowed to normal, his blissfully shining eyes uncaring of his reddened mouth and messy hair, where Vegeta's hand was still entangled. Their eyes were peacefully closed, and Goten smiled faintly, wondering how he always seemed to know the answer.

_Damn horny teenager will be the death of me,_ Vegeta thought drowsily, but his arms tightened possessively around him. After such a long, stressful day, that felt too nice.

-:-

After what seemed a considerably long time later, Vegeta's eyes opened lazily, then widely. He shook Goten's shoulder, who reluctantly awakened. "What time is it?" he demanded, careful to keep his voice down.

Goten pulled back one orange wristband, squinting at his sports watch. "About three a.m.," he reported, "We're okay."

Both sat up, relieved. "You're too comfortable," Vegeta muttered dryly, but in the dim lamplight noticed that the inside of his terrycloth wristband was heavily stained with dried blood, though he hadn't a scratch. He said nothing, but it wasn't difficult to guess what the senzu bean had also healed. "Yeah, we're okay," he instead agreed lightly, "The thought of being walked in on horrifies me. Before Earth, it could've meant immediate execution."

"Damn," Goten muttered, and paused. "What did you think of it?"

Vegeta thought about it, as it had mostly worn off by then. "I see why you took it, but it made me sleepy."

"That's normal," Goten reasoned, "You need some sleep, anyway.""You're the one telling me that," Vegeta ironized.

Goten shrugged. "I'm used to it."

Vegeta contemplated the younger male. "I resented you halfbreeds, getting more powerful every generation so fast and easily… but I didn't think of your human sides. It seems to make you more affected by things than a fullblooded Saiyan. That just didn't happen to us." He paused and frowned. Did it?

Goten fidgeted idly, nodding. "You and my dad had years to get used to all that power… it's just too much to handle without losing my mind. It must be the same for Gohan and Trunks." Not exactly the same, he thought, and looked away. "Believe me, you got nothing to envy."

"Maybe you also need time, in a different way," Vegeta advised.

"Maybe," Goten agreed half-heartedly, annoyed at bearing the guise of a wimp in comparison.

Vegeta changed the subject. "I'll bring you the medecine tomorrow morning and evening." He hesitated. "Get some sleep, Goten. You can wake up late if you want."

"Will you sleep so easily?" Goten asked, doubting it.

"Eventually," Vegeta replied casually, knowing he would probably not.

Sensing the issue he was sidestepping, Goten advised, "Try reading. Sometimes that helps." He took a literature book from his backpack and handed it to him. "The class was boring, but this isn't bad." Vegeta accepted the book. Goten uneasily turned away at the awkwardness, hoping it would quickly disappear.

No less clumsily, Vegeta slid an arm around his chest. "At least try."

Goten clutched his arm, biting his lip. _Why can't I sleep with you?_

Vegeta's expressionless face darkened at the obvious question that needn't be spoken. "We'll figure it out."

Goten nodded stoicly, squeezing his hand. "Good night, Vegeta."

"Good night." Vegeta watched him quietly leave the office to the stairway. He gave the book an impatient glance, but brought it to his room anyway.

Willing himself to simply stop thinking, he changed into his sleepwear, and crawled under the covers.

Doubtful that Trunks' own habit of reading before bed would help, he opened the book, pausing curiously at the first page. It read:

_The Dance_

_["I have sent you my invitation, the note inscribed on the palm of my hand by the fire of living. Don't jump up and shout, "Yes, this is what I want! Let's do it!" Just stand up quietly and dance with me.]_

_[Show me how you follow your deepest desires, spiralling down into the ache within the ache. And I will show you how I reach inward and open outward to feel the kiss of the Mystery, sweet lips on my own, everyday.]_

_[Don't tell me you want to hold the whole world in your heart. Show me how you turn away from making another wrong without abandoning yourself when you are hurt and afraid of being unloved.]_

_[Tell me a story of who you are, And see who I am in the stories I am living. And together we will remember that each of us always has a choice.]_

_[Don't tell me how wonderful things will be . . . some day. Show me you can risk being completely at peace, truly OK with the way things are right now in this moment, and again in the next and the next and the next. . .]_

_[I have heard enough warrior stories of heroic daring. Tell me how you crumble when you hit the wall, the place you cannot go beyond by the strength of your own will. What carries you to the other side of that wall, to the fragile beauty of your own humanness?]_

_[And after we have shown each other how we have set and kept the clear, healthy boundaries that help us live side by side with each other, let us risk remembering that we never stop silently loving those we once loved out loud.]_

_[Take me to the places on the earth that teach you how to dance, the places where you can risk letting the world break your heart. And I will take you to the places where the earth beneath my feet and the stars overhead make my heart whole again and again.]_

_[Show me how you take care of business without letting business determine who you are. When the children are fed but still the voices within and around us shout that soul's desires have too high a price, let us remind each other that it is never about the money.]_

_[Show me how you offer to your people and the world the stories and the songs you want our children's children to remember, and I will show you how I struggle not to change the world, but to love it.]_

_[Sit beside me in long moments of shared solitude, knowing both our absolute aloneness and our undeniable belonging. Dance with me in the silence and in the sound of small daily words, holding neither against me at the end of the day.]_

_[And when the sound of all the declarations of our sincerest intentions has died away on the wind, dance with me in the infinite pause before the next great inhale of the breath that is breathing us all into being, not filling the emptiness from the outside or from within.]_

_[Don't say, "Yes!" Just take my hand and dance with me."]_

_(from "The Dance : Moving to the Rhythms of Your True Self", by Oriah Mountain Dreamer)_

Vegeta blinked, and slowly reread the passage. Its intended artistic effect was mostly lost on him, but some of the words were not.

An almost eery recognition, like some obscure mirror, compelled him to read on. The rest was similar, as far as he could read before his eyes became tired, and he set the book aside to shut off his lamp.

Still it was that he stared at his dark ceiling, unable to shake his thoughts of the fateful day. Somehow, Goten knew him in a way no one ever had; perhaps they each recognized a part of himself in the other.

How easily he'd fallen asleep beside him, accidentally on a couch that was not very comfortable. Despite the day's weariness, he was tempted go and bring Goten back regardless.

Vegeta tossed and turned restlessly every several minutes, before the lingering traces of the pill finally tugged his eyelids shut. Though he would never tell Goten, the mysterious medecine was the reason he managed to sleep at all that night.

-:-

The rest of Capsule Corp seemed to agree with the future couple on a late morning. It was the weekend after all, with no particular plans for anyone.

Seeing Goten still sound asleep at eleven, Trunks stepped out quietly for his shower, returning a few minutes later in a fresh change of clothes.

Hearing the door squeak open, Goten awoke groggily, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

"About time, lazybones," Trunks greeted cheerfully, "What time did you get in?"

"Dunno, but some birds were singing," Goten recalled, stretching his feet for his slippers, "I fell asleep on the couch."

Trunks grinned and snapped his towel at him. "I believe it. Get your butt to the shower so we can go eat."

"Isn't that my line?" Goten mumbled, but left to do so.

He reemerged quickly, also in a fresh change of clothes as he rubbed his hair dry. Mrs. Briefs called them down to brunch, happy to see them appear promptly.

There wasn't much conversation with three grown Saiyans before plates of food, and Bra was catching on well.

Bulma had been studying Goten thoughtfully, trying to understand what was amiss. "How are things, Goten?" she inquired.

"Fine," he replied after a last gulp of tea, "Just pretty rusty."

"I know your drill sergeant has that base covered," she specified dryly, "I meant in general, since you didn't look well yesterday."

Goten shifted uneasily, appearing nervous. "Just tired of school. I'm glad it's over soon, for good."

Bulma nodded, she herself disapproving of ChiChi's agreement, but dismissed it. "I hope you'll be inviting Renshen. She'd make you a good little wife, you know."

Goten shrunk back in his chair. "If you like. But we're only friends now."

Her mouth dropped open. "What? She friend-zoned you?"

"Mom!" Trunks objected with a sharp glance, while Vegeta maintained his uninterested allure.

"No, it was mutual," Goten replied, "We just didn't want to ruin a good friendship."

Bulma shook her head, believing to understand, but Mrs. Briefs encouraged, "Give him time, dear, they're still young. Don't you agree, Vegeta?"

He looked up, surprised to be asked his opinion. "Not really my business, but your system of mate selection is faulty."

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I suppose you could find him a better one?"

"Probably," Vegeta replied calmly, reminding Trunks and Goten, "Be ready at one o'clock."

-:-

When the meal was over and the family had dispersed, Goten waited by the office door as they'd agreed, pacing. _Come on!_

Shortly, Vegeta arrived, beckoning for him to enter. Goten complied in haste, closing the door behind them. The room was much smaller than the main office by the lab, and it had been agreed that Vegeta would be using it for the time being.

He handed the demi Saiyan a small water bottle and the now lesser dose of pills, which he swallowed in one fast, accustomed gulp. "Thank you," he sighed with relief.

Vegeta frowned at his shaking fingers that clutched the sides of his gi pants, and beads of sweat that dripped from his hairline. "You need to take it earlier," he observed, "Wait until the drunk phase passes."

"Stoned," Goten corrected irritably, and flopped down on the couch.

Vegeta watched his fingers clawing into his knees. "What exactly happens if you don't take it?"

"Like I want to jump out of my skin, kick whatever's there, and ultimately self-destruct," Goten clarified, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Vegeta nodded soberly, waiting for him to relax as the molecule faithfully kicked in. This was not good.

"Guess I'm the only one dumb enough to fall into such a trap," Goten muttered dully, "Bulma and my mother took the same thing and didn't, and the rest of you, it never crossed your minds."

"They made her sick," Vegeta explained, "But I think everyone has some kind of escape."

That confirmed Goten's suspicion, as he'd noticed more sprains and wraps than usual. "My dad said you've been overdoing it again. That's why you had a senzu bean?"

Vegeta nodded. For the next half hour, he discretely observed Goten while thinking. "You seem calm now, but not all bizarre like I was last night," he finally commented.

"I rarely get a buzz anymore," Goten explained, "It just keeps me from being miserable." He scowled at how awful that sounded spoken aloud, and stood to look out the window at CC's professionally sculpted lawn.

Vegeta joined him. "I won't let you go through that," he promised, hesitating. "Did you sleep well, at least?"

Goten made a so-so gesture with his hand. "You?"

"Same," Vegeta replied, lowering his voice, "I regretted not bringing you back with me."

"Why didn't you?" Goten asked sullenly.

Vegeta sighed with exasperation, disliking repeating himself. "Like I've had time to think. I told you, I didn't believe it would actually happen. Ever, even less right now."

"Like winning the lottery?" Goten reflected.

"Similar," Vegeta agreed, "I wonder what you would do with all that money. Blow it all on passing whims, invest it, or what?"

"Dunno, but I'd share it," Goten pointed out innocently.

"Subtle," Vegeta commented dryly, but accepted his tentative embrace. Again, the unseen whirlpool of energies between them turned his insides to liquid. "Why do you make me such a mess?"

Goten smiled lightly, stroking his cheek. "A mess is right." He paused. "I'm never sure what you'll let me do," he explained, "I can respect your limit, but I don't know where it is."

"Me, neither," Vegeta acknowledged, knowing also that it was give an inch, take a mile.

"Yeah, but you know we can sleep in the same bed with no problem." Goten scowled. "Is it really like I have to twist your arm?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed to call his nonsense. "Don't you think your absence will be noticed? If you have an idea, say so."

"It would help if I knew what we can do," Goten moodily pointed out.

Vegeta considered his point of view, understanding how easily he felt rejected. He himself saw life in how patterns appeared, and was thrown off course by impetuous ways that deviated from them. "Well, what's missing otherwise?"

"Nothing specific." Goten's voice returned to its usual, subdued timbre. "I just hate an invisible leash pulled like it's something bad. At least learn to trust me."

"Baka," Vegeta scoffed, but traced his fingers through his hair. He liked the softness of his shaggy, untamed locks, a nice contrast to what was lower down, and far from soft. "What are you thinking about?"

Goten's nails dug into his back. "You, fucking me like a slut right now."

"Nice." Vegeta's eyes began to cloud with lust. "I can promise you that." Unexpectedly, he shoved him against the wall for a heated makeout which they'd wanted all night.

Goten's kiss alone merited an X-rating, and he did not want to end what he'd yearned for for so long. The next step would be too easy to take, and felt too natural.

Sensing it, Vegeta slowed them down, but smiled at what he was indeed looking forward to. As much as he'd insisted that it could not be a constant habit for them, it was unrealistic to not expect. They could surely find a happy medium somewhere.

Knowing what the rest of the Z-gang would think, Goten liked Vegeta's sophistication, who in turn found the demi Saiyan's innocence intriguing.

"I'm tempted to ask if I can read those manga in your stash… please say no…" Vegeta told him, "I wanted to laugh, how quickly you hid them. Your face looked just like some guy in a film I saw, who threw himself on a live grenade to save his platoon."

"… You don't think you're exaggerating, just a little?"

"No." Vegeta grinned at his expression, his rare humor becoming catching.

"Well, it's embarassing. But it's okay with me," Goten replied. He sat down and reached for his hand, quickly finding himself curled up in his lap. He made Vegeta late to the Gravity Room, he later noted with satisfaction.

-:-

A couple of hours into their workout, the prince called for a break to tell the demis that Trunks was to take his and Goten's practice from there, so that he himself could squeeze in his more intense workout alone.

Trunks had been discretely observing Goten, trying to figure out the reason for his landslide drop in skill and coordination. He was accustomed to his occasional laziness, but it was clear that it wasn't the case. He also tried not to show the offense he still took despite himself, that his best friend still refused to tell him why. His father had learned by chance, he'd said, which was unsurprising. The stranger thing was why he thought it was for him to take care of, when Goku had been covering for him all year. Without a doubt, they'd learned by chance as well. Even Gohan hadn't a clue. Trunks reminded himself to be patient, knowing that more questions would just set off his unusual moodiness again.

Goten could not help his annoyance at this exclusion, as well as being led to train outdoors. After all that Vegeta had been insisting on a higher gravity tactic, he'd changed his mind as though it were out of his league. For the moment, he said nothing. Anyway, it would pick up again later on, so he and Trunks continued sparring outside to enjoy the pleasant weather.

On Vegeta's part, he needed to burn off steam as always, and to not think. Often, his best ideas stemmed from his workouts, and right now, he needed both.

Barely an hour of what his family called his solo-masochism had passed when the doorbell chimed. Focused on a technique that was complicated even for himself, he ignored it, but it rang insistently several more times. The distraction caused him to land on his already sprained wrist, cursing.

_"No one can answer the damn door here?!"_ he yelled down the corridor, but the place was otherwise empty. Irritated, he grabbed his face towel and strode to the front door, swearing to himself that this had better be important.

He was unamused to find Renshen waiting patiently outside. "Goten's still training," he informed her less than patiently, his voice tinged with disdain.

"Yes, I know," she replied politely, hesitating, "Actually, it's you I was hoping to talk to, Mr. Briefs."

"That's the woman's name, and we aren't married," he told her flatly, "I'm Vegeta."

"Okay… Vegeta-san," Ren corrected herself, unsurprised by his animosity, "It can wait, if this is a bad time."

Not knowing what to consider a better time, Vegeta waved for her to enter, mainly out of curiosity. He took two cans from the refrigerator and set one aside for her, opening his own for a long swallow.

"Thank you." Ren accepted the kitchen chair he kicked out for her. She did not care for soft drinks, but opened the can anyway to not offend him, taking a sip of the fizzy lemon drink.

Vegeta sat down and shot the girl a suspicious glance. "Why do you want to talk to me?"

Ren sensed it best to get to the point. "You know now I'm only a friend of Goten's, right?"

"So it appears," Vegeta replied neutrally.

"When he first brought me here to introduce me as his girlfriend, that was also the case," she continued, "Which I guess you know now, too?"

"That's what he said," Vegeta confirmed in feigned confusion, "Why are you telling me this?"

Renshen took a deep breath. "He doesn't know I'm talking to you, and probably won't be too happy about it. Sometimes I wish it had worked out for real for us. It just didn't. But I'm still his friend, and I've been worried since school started, because it's clear something's wrong. He won't tell me, or anyone I know of. I'm hoping at least you know?"

The fullblooded Saiyan considered her a bit differently, yet was puzzled. "I get your concern, but what do you think makes me any different, and why the pretension? I don't see the point."

She raised an eyebrow. "Can I speak frankly?"

"Please do," he replied satirically, losing patience again.

"I knew 'uncle' was an honorific title. It seemed like a lot of trouble, since you don't strike me as someone who gets into anyone else's business. Goten obviously cares a lot what you think, and he never looked at me the way he looks at you. Am I wrong there?"

Vegeta studied Ren, who this time wore casual, loose-fitting long shorts and a t-shirt, with her hair clipped back simply. She spoke seriously, and sounded more intelligent than on his first impression. "What do you mean?" he asked, knowing that Goten had never told anyone anything concerning them, ever.

"You're the one he loves, aren't you?" she affirmed rather than asked, yet her voice had softened understandingly, if a bit hollow.

He looked up sharply, his face astounded and indignant. "Do you realize what you're saying?" he demanded.

"Hey, it's cool," Ren assured him quickly, "If you love him, maybe it'll be okay." She hesitated. "…Do you?"

Vegeta glared angrily, in a wordless demand of who she thought she was. "So what if I do or don't?" he demanded in a calm, quiet voice that was more chilling than his anger.

"That isn't… my worry, Vegeta-san," Ren carefully levelled with him, "If he's happy, that's great. I just think there's something else. I won't tell anyone, or ask you to betray a confidence. Just to tell me if you can help." She watched him, nervously wary.

Vegeta was quiet for a moment, frankly surprised at her honesty and lack of criticism or mockery, as she seemed to have known for quite some time. He reconsidered her, and nodded. "I'm doing what I can."

"Thanks," she sighed, relieved, "That's all I wanted to hear."

"You're more mature than I thought," Vegeta acknowledged.

"That means a lot if you think so," Ren told him thoughtfully, hesitating, "I wasn't sure of your origin, so Goten told me. I'm sorry about your island being destroyed."

"Isl–?" Vegeta began, then brushed off, "It was long ago."

She seemed to accept that. "It's strange, though. You and Mr. Son don't look much older than us."

"Genetic things," he shrugged off, scrutinizing her slender frame which lacked in much muscle tone. Her ki was quiet and restrained, but she had guts. "I assume you don't study any martial arts."

"No, I'm afraid not," she replied, guessing this to be a default in his eyes, "Which one is yours?"

Vegeta had not seen any Earth martial art like his own, except the Kame school in some ways. "I don't have a preferred style," he replied vaguely.

"Mixed Martial Arts?" she guessed, "It's what my brother does."

"Something like that," he settled, his opinion of her grudgingly moving up to a wary tolerance.

At that moment, they heard a key turning in the lock, signaling Bulma and her parents returning with Bra from the toddler's park.

Vegeta cast a piercing glance at Ren, who nodded with a zipping motion over her mouth.

"There you are, Ren, it's great to see you!" Bulma greeted with a delighted smile.

"Good afternoon, Bulma-san," Ren replied with a returned smile.

"Sounds like you discovered Vegeta's favorite subject," Dr. Briefs commented, chuckling. "Told you she'd be back soon," he reminded his daughter.

Mrs. Briefs put on tea and unwrapped a new pastry box, and the three women talked cheerfully.

Seeing the towel around his neck, Bra climbed onto Vegeta's knee. "Hey, do I get to train with you?" she wanted to know.

Vegeta patted her head. "Sure. Get changed, and wait outside with the boys." So much for his own time that day, he resigned with an exasperated glance at the clock.

Trunks and Goten looked in curiously at the wait and the sound of talking. "I thought you were stopping by later," Goten said to Ren.

"Yeah, but I was in town and thought I'd wait. Is that okay?" she asked with a glance of apprehension at the others present.

"Of course it's okay," Mrs. Briefs smoothed over, "You can visit with us until their practice is done. You're staying for dinner, I hope?"

Ren smiled uneasily, but glanced questioningly at Goten.

"Guess so," Goten replied, looking confused.

"Sure," Trunks confirmed, picking up his little sister. "Come on, squirt, in uniform," he told her with a wave at Ren, "Later."

Vegeta followed, once out of earshot muttering to Goten, "Careful. I don't know how, but she knows."

Goten paled, covering his face. _The gods hate me._

-:-

As chilled out as Vegeta had been around him lately, Goten had marveled, during practice, he was as strictly no-nonsense as always. He expected no less from Trunks and himself than all they had, and Goten was no exception now. Vegeta had always encouraged power struggles, which had not changed. Also, the former did not want to disappoint him any more than he knew he would. The session had been exceptionally gruelling that day, or perhaps it just appeared so, as out of the loop as the youngest Son had become.

Now he looked up from flat on the floor, sweating with his teeth bared furiously at how easily Trunks had knocked him down. The variable tactic he'd used had always before destabilized the other demi Saiyan. He sprang back up, albeit less agile than before, determined for a better outcome as he faced who was nothing but his sensei in this context.

"You'll just have to do better." Vegeta's piercing black eyes were as pitiless as his words.

"I'm trying!" Goten snapped, not caring about etiquette this time.

"Try harder," was the prince's retort, following up with an attack that threw him no favors.

Goten began to understand Vegeta's plight of early years firsthand. He counter-attacked with full effort, finding himself battling in retreat again, to his dismay. _What the actual fuck!_ he swore to himself, ignoring the sweat that dripped into his face.

A last-ditch effort to parry what was to be Vegeta's coup de grace earned him enough space, like a large, invisible bubble-shield, to begin the counter-attack that ran through his blood. A concentrated ball of ki that was the intention of every fiber of his being, formed instinctively in his hands, which must be nothing other than precise. This was what he dreaded, putting literally all he had in a tactic, with the terrible possibility of it not being enough. But it must be.

"KAAA– MEEE- HAA– MEE–!" Knowing it to be Vegeta's strategical weakness, he sprang an attack with his explosive ki blast backed by chudan punches to the midsection, and a triple spin kick. He feinted the first two, with an unexpected, powerful third kick to the chest. The prince routinely dodged it, grasping his ankle with a seeming effortlessness, and sent him crashing to the floor. His Super Saiyan glow faded dejectedly.

"It's time to call it a day," Vegeta crisply announced the end of their session, looking on grimly while a heavily bruised-up Goten swore a blue streak under his breath.

"NO! It's not 'a day!' It can't end for me, like… _that!"_ Goten hissed through his teeth, ignoring the fact that the sun had begun to set. He banged a fist on the ground in livid frustration, before standing up disgustedly.

Trunks signaled his exit to his father, before slipping into the adjoining showers. He wasn't about to be in the middle of that.

Finding them alone with only the beginning chirp of cicadas, Goten turned his back sullenly, still fuming. Vegeta waited in stoic silence.

"I can't believe it!" Goten ranted, when his fury had calmed sufficiently to speak without blowing something up. "That wave was all I fucking had! And all my dad could say was, it was 'no big deal,' and a break was okay. It's obviously not okay!" He folded his arms, staring dully into the distance.

"Well," Vegeta reasoned, "If he had insisted, would that have changed your mind?"

Goten's mouth was pinched tightly in grim silence, knowing it would have made no difference. Finally, his voice lowered. "I know damn well it's my own fault, Vegeta. But now, when my best effort isn't good enough… no, it's not okay. It's not even remotely okay."

Vegeta internally cringed at hearing his own echo, knowing that there was nothing he could say to remedy the situation.

Another long silence passed, before the demi Saiyan announced, "I want the dose lowered faster."

"I understand, but that's not a good idea," Vegeta warned sharply.

Goten threw his hands in the air. "So what _is_ a good idea, train with Bra since she can't beat me up yet?"

"It's supposed to be every two or three days," Vegeta reminded him impatiently, "You looked sick today when it was just a few hours later than usual.

"Yeah, but I'm fine now," Goten argued stubbornly, "If I can handle this, a little less won't hurt. It's like it's not even worth the bother to train."

Vegeta sighed. "Goten, you've been under permanent anesthesia for almost a year. Your balance is off, and you're not used to it anymore. That's the real point of your training for now."

"Exactly." Goten turned to face him. "It's like I was already dead. But even if part of me still thinks it's too good to be true, I got a second chance. Don't you think it's at least worth a try?"

"Is that what it's really about?" the native Saiyan inquired, "Do you think I expect you to be back in shape overnight?"

Goten said nothing, quite aware of how Vegeta saw weakness in general.

The latter's silence matched his own for a thoughtful moment. "Alright, Goten," he conceded, "If that's what you really want, we can try. But one sign of it going wrong, it's back to the original system." His voice trailed off in a tone of warning.

Goten nodded. "Understood."

"It isn't as bad as some cases I read about," Vegeta informed him, "Many humans have stayed that way for years. Imagine how much harder it would be for them, if they still cared, or even survived it." Seeing that Goten was at least thinking, he added, "You aren't too far gone, you know."

Goten offered a forced smile, acknowledging his effort to encourage him.

"Get cleaned up," Vegeta closed the conversation, "You'll see."

Goten followed him to the changing room. Billows of steam from the showers, and the smell of soap and muscle gel were familiar, welcome signs of a long day's end. He peeled off his sweaty uniform and stepped into a shower stall, turning up the water's heat to his level of satisfaction. In another stall, he heard Vegeta doing the same. As usual, the water seemed to carry the tensions of sore muscles and overthinking down the drain with the sweat and soap suds.

He dried himself and stepped out to change, feeling admittedly lighter.

Trunks stepped out in turn a moment later. He was late to finish because he'd picked up the angry yelling, mostly from Goten, and the bits he'd been able to hear were alarming:

_\- "my dad… not okay!"_

_\- "not a good idea… even survived it…"_

_\- "second chance… worth a try?"_

_\- "one sign of it going wrong…"_

Trunks frowned. Something was indeed wrong. He decided to just remain attentive, hoping to find out somehow. The possibility seemed unlikely, and the whole scenario was downright creepy.

-:-

When the last plate was cleared away, Ren politely lent a hand to clean up the kitchen, before joining the demi Saiyans in the spacious living room.

"What'd I miss?" She set a pile of snacks on the low table, before joining Goten and Trunks in front of their TV series.

"Less than me," Goten replied, lost in the storyline after missing a whole season.

"They finally got through the wormhole," Trunks filled Goten in, "Of course, the Azvo did all they could to screw them up, but they got through by a secret cave that blocked their signals. They lived there for almost two years, and left when the Emperor gave them up for dead." To Ren, he added, "Just what happened last time."

They watched in rapt silence, though Goten no longer found the series as interesting as before. He could, however, relate to the difficulty of living under the radar for so long.

When the credits rolled, Trunks smiled at them uneasily. He was sure he picked up something new in the girl's attitude toward Goten. Doubtless, she was as thrown off by his friend's wierdness as himself, he decided. "Well, I gotta finish my history paper," Trunks excused himself as he stood.

"You'll breeze right through it," Goten commented.

"Yeah, but I hate waiting til the last minute," he told them lightly, "Later." He was halfway up the stairway before either could reply.

An expected pause of trepidant discomfort hovered around them. Whereas Goten often let tension build up around an issue until someone reacted, he hated it done to himself.

He finally spoke up to clear it. "So, I guess you know now."

Ren hesitated, then nodded. "He told you I talked to him, then?" She looked to the direction of the small office where Vegeta had gone, as though she could see through the walls.

Aware that half the time, Vegeta used that office as another refuge, Goten replied, "We haven't talked yet, he just said you knew." He frowned, puzzled. "It's impossible that anyone told you, so how did you know?"

"I just thought it was wierd," Ren admitted, "It made no sense at first, and… sorry, but the atmosphere spoke for itself."

"How do you mean?"

She lowered her voice. "You told me before you also like guys. I never would've thought it was him, except you said he was the one who was supposed to notice our show. To be honest, I didn't quite believe your story, and he looked at me like he hated my guts. You refused to come here until now, and I saw how you always looked at each other."

Goten stared at her incredulously. "How?"

"Sneaky," she specified, "But different now." At his horrified look, she asked, "You don't think I'd tell anyone?"

"No," Goten acknowledged warily, adding in warning, "You better not." His pulse raced. Geez Kami, who else knew?

"Really," Ren drawled sarcastically, but paused. "How do you work that out, since you aren't eighteen yet?" she wondered aloud.

"Don't matter to me, but he wants to wait for anything serious," Goten confided reluctantly.

"Dang," she sympathized, but reasoned, "He's right, though. You wouldn't wanna cause him any trouble, would you?"

"No," Goten replied defensively, but studied her in thought. "You don't look shocked or anything. But thanks for not calling me jailbait and a homewrecker."

"It's… unusual," Ren agreed, "I mean, damn. But if you're happy, that's what counts."

"Is that why you talked to him?" he inquired.

She hesitated at the strained subject. "Yes and no. I just wanted to be sure everything was okay."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Goten scowled that such a thing should be so transparent, now beginning to worry about what else was.

"You'd rather nobody cared?" Ren pointed out, "You're lucky you don't have my mom."

Goten raised an eyebrow. "I think everybody would agree with you about that."

She snickered. "I guess so." The mood had lightened, as it had once been. Despite her regret that a relationship hadn't worked out for them, she would not have wanted it as a rebound, not to mention the indignity of being his second choice. Ren left Capsule Corp that evening with an odd mix of relief and sadness. Things happened as they did for a good reason, she'd been taught. Though she didn't always agree, right now she had to believe it.

-:-

As soon as Ren had left and no one could see, Goten hurried into the office for his new routine.

Vegeta watched her leave from the window. "You seriously never once slept with her?" he wondered aloud.

"No," Goten replied, "Why, I should've?"

"I didn't say that," Vegeta commented lightly.

"So you don't think she's a hoe anymore?"

"Huh?"

"A slut," Goten clarified. The jealousy trip had served its purpose, but it now disturbed him.

"It was nothing personal," Vegeta replied, closing the subject.

"Well, who was your first?" Goten wondered aloud.

"No one you've met," Vegeta dodged it, knowing the person in question had without a doubt given his brother a bad opinion of his bloodline.

"I figured that," Goten retorted dryly, "You probably won't tell me, but how old were you?"

"You're right, I won't." Vegeta was getting used to his out of nowhere questions.

Goten grinned. "You weren't eighteen yet, were you?"

"Close enough," Vegeta lied, regretting having aborded the topic.

"Yeah, I get it." Goten smirked triumphantly, finding himself skilled at reading between the lines.

"You Earthlings always go on about cultural tolerance," Vegeta settled impatiently, "I'm from _space,_ give me a break."

Goten smiled innocently. "Hey, no problem from me." He silenced him with a soft kiss and a knowing smile before leaving the office, still smiling.

Vegeta winced at the broken contact, which almost literally hurt. He blinked, muttering to himself, "…the death of me."

-:-

As Goten had confidently promised, the next few days passed smoothly, as his residual rustiness in practice began to taper off. Though he'd been skeptical, Vegeta was pleased by his progress.

Trunks, however, could not shake an insistent sense of foreboding and suspicion. Perhaps suspicion was a strong word for what was simply bizarre, yet inhabitually so.

Each night, Goten set a small water bottle on his nightstand for the next morning. School had been out for weeks, but he still awoke at seven before going back to sleep.

One morning at the hour, Trunks feigned sleep to see his father slip into his room, quietly so as not to wake him. He shook Goten's shoulder, who awoke to accept something placed in his hand. His back was turned to him, but he could see his hand brought to his mouth before taking a drink of water. Vegeta patted his back and left, and it was the same ritual every morning. He was clearly swallowing something, but what kind of medecine could a Saiyan possibly need? Trunks began to genuinely worry. Had he caught some rare illness, and chose not to tell anyone?

Sometimes, Goten stepped into the hallway with his water, to return a few moments later. Either way, Trunks didn't like it. Yet, nothing seemed to be wrong with the other demi Saiyan; if anything, he was improving.

Then, one afternoon while playing video games, Goten suddenly dropped his controller. He'd broke into a sweat, his face red and feverish, while his hands and limbs visibly trembled. He made a visible effort to keep his cool, but his fists were clenched in tight resistance.

"Goten?" Trunks asked in confusion, "What can I do?" The former had been a bit jumpy, which he'd chalked up to the game.

"Vegeta," Goten managed, and leaned forward on his rubbery knees.

Trunks ran off immediately in search of his father, predictably finding him in the Gravity Room. An instant later, both appeared in Trunks' room. The latter watched anxiously, while Vegeta took one look at him, nodding grimly.

"What's the hell's wrong with him?!" Trunks blurted, his indignance pushed aside for momentary concern.

"Later," Vegeta replied impatiently, adding, "Bring him to the other spare room in my suite for now."

"What are you doing?" Goten asked when each took one of his arms.

Trunks helped drag him to the other single room. They pulled off Goten's sneakers, and tucked him under the covers of one of the neatly made twin beds.

"Just get some cold water and a rag," Vegeta instructed calmly. Trunks complied, leaving Vegeta with other demi Saiyan.

"No, it's too hot!" Goten complained, kicking away the covers they'd pulled up.

Vegeta tucked them firmly back in place. "I told you, it was too fast," he declared, uselessly at this point. The next instant, Goten began shivering, curling into a ball, and clutched the covers around himself.

Quickly while they were alone, Vegeta produced the small bag he'd wisely kept hidden in the Gravity Room, shaking out what was to be his dose that evening. "Swallow, hurry." He listened for Trunks' quiet footsteps.

Goten washed them down without question, and curled back up beneath the covers.

Trunks appeared promptly with the requested items, worried beyond his stoic face, with his mother in tow. She had also been puzzled, trying to figure out what was up, with hundreds of possibilities in her mind.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed at the sight of Goten, "Vegeta, he's sick!" She took the cold rag and mopped Goten's face, then placed it on his forehead. That actually was a great idea, and Goten pressed it gladly to his face.

"Yeah no shit," Vegeta muttered sarcastically, flustered by their panic, "But not the way you think."

"Like what, then?" Trunks asked in bewilderment, "Gohan told me about the heart virus Goku caught once, that not even a senzu bean would touch. That story of how he survived it was vague. Tell me the truth, is it something like that?" Trunks' face was pinched, but pale.

"Not at all," Vegeta assured him, though neither were reassured. "If he wants to tell you, he will."

"What the hell's got into you?" Bulma demanded, "That's not the kind of 'secret' you can agree to keep! Is that what Goku and ChiChi also refused to tell us?"

"Indeed," Vegeta replied, refreshing the rag, "There is a good reason. Do you really think they would put their son's health in danger?"

She shook her head impatiently. "That's what I can't believe," she declared, "Why would he tell you of all people, and why would they leave you in charge of him? Either tell me what's going on, or I'm calling a doctor like someone should have done long ago."

"He didn't tell me, I found out. And he already has one," Vegeta informed them, "Right now, there's nothing more the doctor could do than us."

"I don't believe you," she stated firmly. Like Trunks, she kept a wary eye on Goten, who was slowly calming back down.

Vegeta took the said doctor's business card from his pocket, and placed it in her hand. "Call him, if that will satisfy you. But he won't break confidentiality."

Trunks took the card from her and stepped out, and she followed immediately.

Vegeta sighed wearily when they'd left, sitting on the side of the bed. After a moment of silence, he told Goten in a lowered voice, "I kept my promise, but maybe letting Trunks know is only fair. Think about it."

Goten nodded, keeping his eyes shut. He could not think of much at the moment.

Vegeta brushed back part of his hair that was stuck to his face. "Try to rest like you're supposed to," he encouraged.

"But I'm fine now." Goten sat up, trying to ignore the alternating sweats and chills.

Vegeta pushed him back down with one finger. "That wasn't a request." He tucked the covers back into place again. Goten did not truly have an argument with that, and both were silent.

Over half an hour passed before Bulma and Trunks returned, this time with Goku. Instant Transmission was a handy skill at any time. The former two looked perplexed at having heard first the doctor, then Goku, confirm what Vegeta had said.

The latter, who'd also shut his eyes with his arms folded in thought, looked up. "That's cleared up, then?"

"For you," Bulma retorted crisply, "Since you're apparently in charge of this mess." She turned on one sandaled foot and left. Trunks followed her, with a last questioning look behind him.

Sensing his father's ki, Goten opened his eyes while Vegeta gave him the short version of the story. He'd put in as much practice as himself, but tried to drop too fast, and had finally collapsed.

"He's impatient," Goku agreed, "Are you feeling better, Goten?"

"Slowly," Goten replied, "Just tired now."

Goku nodded, seeing the situation under control. "They sounded awfully panicked, though. They wouldn't be if they knew."

Vegeta glanced at Goten. "His decision."

"Not that I don't understand," Goku replied ambivalently, already wondering what to say to ChiChi.

"How's Mom?" Goten asked, guessing his thought. To his relief, conversation shifted to lighter subjects, until he dropped back off to his nap.

Seeing that the demi Saiyan drifted in and out of a fitful sleep, the other two stood by the window to talk.

"I'm doing my best, Kakarot," Vegeta told him, seeing himself literally stuck between two worlds, "I guess I hoped what he thought he could do was possible."

Goku watched him thoughtfully, unable to help a bit of jealousy. He was there for his youngest son in hopes of making up for his initial absence, as he'd been determined, yet in some way, he wasn't. Goten had still turned to Vegeta, as Gohan had to Piccolo. Yet, something was different. He pushed his thoughts aside, useless now anyway. "Maybe you're just better placed to help him now."

Vegeta cast him a sharp glance, unable to guess what he meant, before remembering who he was talking to. "Maybe. Some things are aside from the duties of a parent."

"I know, Vegeta," he replied cheerfully, glancing at a clock on the nightstand. "I should be going. ChiChi doesn't know I left."

Vegeta nodded with a glance at Goten. "Do you–?"

"Nah, don't wake him up," Goku cut in, "Catch you later." He placed two fingers to his forehead, and vanished.

"How in the hell does he do that?" Vegeta muttered to himself.

"I wish I knew," Goten replied in a bored voice.

"You aren't asleep?"

"Trying." Goten shifted restlessly. "It makes me less nervous."

Vegeta frowned, examining his eyes. "Isn't it helping? If not, you'll have to go back and slow down."

"I don't know yet." Goten looked pained, his disappointment evident.

Vegeta nodded grimly. "Try to sleep a little, then we'll see." He leaned down for a stolen kiss before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

Goten's eyes closed with a faint smile, and he let himself dream. That helped.

-:-

Trunks remained quietly out of sight, but waited in his father's suite. Find out, his mother had tersely insisted. He would, as he'd promised; but first, there was something that he absolutely had to know. Following his gut instinct, he waited for the one person who could answer: Goku.

Knowing he would learn nothing new from their conversation, he paced, impatient for the fullblooded Saiyan to pass through the hallway.

Sensing the latter's ki disappear from the modest spare room, Trunks let himself out an opened hallway window. He flew at full tilt toward the familiar, large mountain near the Sons' home, where he picked up the other's ki. His thoughts were racing faster than he could fly, which he could not even formulate into a question.

Who am I? a small voice in the back of his mind asked, which did not help.

He was not actually in a hurry, but was compelled to get away from his thoughts for a moment's respite.

When he saw the small dome house below, Trunks floated down. ChiChi was hanging out laundry, humming a song that was stuck in her head.

"Hello, ChiChi-san," he greeted politely, "Is Goku-san here?"

She turned with a kind smile. "Hi, Trunks. He's around here somewhere." She dropped a few clothespins into her basket, and led him to the side yard. Her smile faded when she saw Goku seated on the ground, watching clouds in thought. "Maybe the grass will get mowed sometime this century," she commented dryly.

Goku looked back and stood up, grinning. "I'll get to it. Just thinking."

"Saved by a visit, for now," ChiChi told him, shaking her head as she went back to the clothesline.

"What's up, Trunks?" Goku asked casually.

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you, but I didn't get a chance," the demi Saiyan replied uncomfortably.

"Is everything okay?" Goku asked, puzzled. It wasn't like Trunks to look so perturbed.

The latter hesitated. "Once, Gohan told me about a wierd heart virus you had, and miraculously survived," he began, "Was it genetic?"

Goku frowned. "No. Why do you ask?"

Trunks looked at his feet before venturing, "Will you tell me the truth about that story?"

Goku was quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sorry, but that'd be hard to do, Trunks."

"Why?" Trunks asked, bewildered, "Please, you gotta tell me what happened!"

Goku felt a stab of guilt at his obvious worry, but tried to help. "You don't still think Goten has the same thing, do you? I can promise you he don't. It's just a thing that's uncomfortable and embarassing to him."

The purple-haired prince sighed wearily. "I don't know what to think." He hesitated. "Everything's weird. I mean okay, my dad's in charge of whatever treatment it is. But they talk a lot, and… I don't know." He scowled, frustrated at having no solid question.

"Well, it's still a hard thing to deal with," Goku replied, but studied him thoughtfully, "What's wierd?"

"I don't know, but…" Perhaps his two concerns at once were making him paranoid, he thought. "How did you survive that, if it was incurable?"

Goku hesitated at his turn. "There was no cure for it in our world. A young person from another… well, time-world… brought the medecine from there, where it did exist."

Trunks stared at him, feeling his heart knock at his ribs. "That's weird. I want to specialize in quantum physics."

Goku smiled. "That's not too surprising."

"Why?" Trunks asked.

"The traveller was a lot like you," Goku replied. His smile faded. He hadn't thought of Trunks' future double lately, and he tried not to. For his own reasons, it had been difficult for him to watch him leave. Trunks looked exactly like him, of course, yet he wasn't the same, and it was troubling. Goku preferred not to think about it.

"How so?" Trunks asked, his interest piqued.

Goku tilted his head. "A scientist, like you. His life was really hard, poor guy. But he was a great ally and friend."

"'Was'?" Trunks was suddenly very intetested in learning more about the mysterious time traveller.

"Time travel is dangerous," Goku reminded him, "Nobody can just move to another time."

Trunks nodded, but saw him looking distractedly at the overgrown grass. "Watch this." With a carefully aimed ki blast, he successfully blew away a layer, which left their lawn neatly, evenly cut.

"How the heck did you do that?" Goku exclaimed, grinning.

"It happens a lot, anyway," Trunks explained amusedly, "I'll teach you how, if you teach me instant transmission. Not exactly a fair trade, I know."

Goku chuckled. "I'd say fair enough."

"Will you tell me more about that story some time?" Trunks tried again.

"We'll see." Somehow, Goku managed to reassure him throughout the rest of their talk, at least for the moment, and the demi Saiyan left in a lighter mood than when he'd arrived.

He stopped to take out his phone halfway to West City, as the reception in the Sons' area was terrible, and clicked on Gohan's number. He waited for him to pick up, wondering how Goku had reassured him by explaining so little, and opening a whole new can of worms. Perhaps he just needed a vacation, he finally settled.

-:-

For the next couple of hours, Vegeta remained out of sight, weary of being torn in two directions, and sure that he was slowly losing his mind. He was practically living a double life, when an actual relationship hadn't really begun. Had it?

He wandered restlessly into the kitchen, where a box of herbal tea was set out in a less than subtle gesture to make himself useful. He read the label and set water on to boil, deciding it couldn't hurt.

When it had steeped for the recommended time, he carried the steaming cup to the spare room.

He knocked lightly on the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again. "Goten?" He must have finally gone to sleep, he thought, quietly opening the door. And froze.

The demi Saiyan's back was turned, half on his side and half facedown, but the position and fast motion of one hand, while he bit the other to keep still at an obvious point of no return, was unmistakable.

"I just brought…" Vegeta set the cup of tea on the nightstand, unable to tear his eyes away. "…bad timing," he muttered, but Goten had quickly looked back, and their gazes locked.

He'd seen desire in Goten's eyes, but never before such a raw, sultry intention directed at him during his release. His hand had stopped moving, the other extented invitingly toward him.

Knowing that he should leave immediately and pretend he'd seen nothing, Vegeta instead found himself slowly closing, then locking the door behind him. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, or the hormones that exuded pure sex that made his mind shut down, or the wait that now seemed impossible, but his hand joined Goten's.

If his muscles had been weakened earlier, one hand was strong enough to yank Vegeta onto the bed and roughly pin him down, with a heated kiss of pure and surprising dominance.

Vegeta's face had a way of going blank when Goten kissed him, and he often hesitated before returning it, as though he were either unsure of what to do, or thinking about it.

"You're so cute," Goten told him with a darkly sexy smirk that actually made him blush, "Usually I imagine you taking me, but right now I want to fuck you so bad I could scream." He followed through with a hot, aggressively demanding kiss as he wedged himself deliberately between his legs.

_I'm not subbing like a beginner!_ Vegeta's mind rebelled indignantly, but changed track at another thought. Maybe it wouldn't be as wrong if Goten topped… He hadn't expected it, and was ready to burst as it was. Why did this have to happen now?

"Goten, don't." He tugged to pull his wrists free, to the demi Saiyan's disappoinent.

"Why?" Goten demanded reproachfully, "Don't tell me you don't want it. And don't tell me you really care about anyone's dumb taboos."

That was actually true, he did not care. Still… "Not like this." He could feel beads of sweat form on his hairline. The younger male most likely didn't even know how.

Goten's frenzied kissing turned to bites among languid caressing, while he grinded hard against him.

Vegeta paused, unable to deny what had been driving him insane. His arms closed slowly around his lover, official or not, to return the same. A rush like he hadn't felt since he could remember, sent the energies already swirling within him spiral upward in sudden need, as powerful as Goten's own. Before he knew what was happening, it was too late to stop. His legs wrapped around Goten to accept the compromise, his hands grasping handfuls of his silky hair in time to both their muscles clenching and unclenching as they climbed the summit that made the rest of the world blacken in their periphery.

"Gods," Vegeta groaned among Goten's muffled cries. The release they'd craved brought them over a dazzling summit to collapse in a trembling mass, almost literally seeing stars from what had not been much.

Both remained still in their sparkling afterglow, until the harsh light of reality pulled Vegeta into a heavy, incredulous silence.

Goten looked up almost fearfully at the tension, his elation fading at Vegeta's darkened face. "I'm sorry," he mumbled timidly, "Are you mad at me?"

Still Vegeta was silent at a loss for words, staring blankly at the wall. But anger was not the fitting word.

"Vegeta, please, I had to get it out of my system!" Goten appealed, ashamed of himself now. "I thought nobody was there," he blurted, "But is it really so terrible that I want you with me? We didn't go all the way. Tell me you're not mad at me!" His face betrayed his fear, that the one he loved would leave him.

Vegeta sat up, noticing with irony that he still had his shoes on. "No, I'm not mad at you," his hollow voice replied, "But if you try that again, you'll get more than you bargained for, and I won't regret it."

Goten looked down, knowing that was not meant as a a good thing, and that it would not be wise to touch him right then. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. At least try to understand."

"I understand," he replied after a long silence, "But don't do that. Just… don't." He stood up and awkwardly left the room, confused and flustered.

Goten flopped dejectedly onto the pillow that now held Vegeta's scent as well. He would not be staying with him as he'd wished, though he hadn't intended to take it that far. Even though he himself didn't think it was much, Vegeta obviously did. Now he'd blown it. _Way to screw everything up,_ he berated himself. He'd given his word, Goten thought grimly, and Vegeta seemed more upset by the incident that he would have thought, and wondered why. A quiet heaviness remained in his chest as he drifted off to sleep, and for the rest of the day.

-:-

Though he'd decided to finish training to get his mind off things, Vegeta ended up retiring to his room. He idly flipped channels on his TV for a minute, but shut it off in disgust, preferring to stare at the wall.

Goten had misunderstood his silence for anger, when he was in fact bewildered. He hadn't expected that at all, and it was not supposed to happen that way.

He found himself remembering his first time with Raditz, ironically of the the same bloodline as Goten. A younger Vegeta hadn't the least idea of what was happening to him, as he hadn't made the connection with his father's more simplistic explanation of the birds and the bees.

Instead of leaving his quarters when they were done, the elder Saiyan had curled up next to him in his bed. 'What are you doing?' Vegeta had asked, puzzled.

'It's part of it,' Raditz had explained, 'It's not in the right order, but I wouldn't cheat you out of the whole experience, Sire.'

Vegeta would have preferred to stay alone in the awesome-bubble of his first afterglow, slightly irritated, but Raditz knew more about it. To Vegeta's surprise, it was possible to start over and experience again what he'd been convinced was something magic. Their liason continued in an on and off way until the end, each insisting to himself that it was all about the physical release, another stress reliever.

In the back of their minds, they'd known that was bullshit. It was too dangerous to get attached to anyone, and when Raditz was killed, he'd lost more than a partner. He'd lost what the people of Earth would call his humanity.

Now, Vegeta scowled. The battles on Earth were not as constant, but they happened, and he could lose Goten as well.

He could easily see himself in Goten now, but did he really understand? Could he make up for something with him? It was true that they hadn't gone all the way, but… It was not supposed to happen like that!

Vegeta curled up on his side, cringing as the flashbacks began. One after the other, distorted, unconnected, and times confused. He had no concept of time. The only connection was the bloodshed; theirs, their enemies', that of the guilty, that of the innocent.

During his training as a kid, before he'd had any real experience, Nappa had drawn a simple red X with a small circle in its center. _No matter the size or form of your target, moving or not, all you should see is this,_ he'd explained.

Vegeta had followed the guideline asiduously, and eventually, it happened automatically in his mind. It had also happened when he'd used that same tactic to eliminate the Elite.

Now, he flinched as the visions and sounds worsened. No one must see him thus. Certainly not Goten. It was unfair to the demi Saiyan. He would not see it now; he was still young and starry-eyed. It would only hit him years later, and bring upon him regret. No, not now...

Without thinking, he reached under his pillow for the small stock of Goten's pills he used for his inevitable insomnia, and dry-swallowed a doubled dose. The demi Saiyan must never learn about that.

Vegeta put them away and curled back up on his side, this time pulling the sheet over his head. In time, the crazy thoughts and trembling subsided as the substance made them fade to a distant whisper, then silence. He could catch some mercifully dreamless sleep now.

-:-

After his nap, Goten was restless and anxious, knowing it best to let Vegeta cool off. He had no ally right now… did he?

He hesitated, then walked lightly upstairs, having sensed Trunks' ki. The other demi Saiyan was reading, but for the first time, Goten knocked politely.

Trunks looked up, puzzled that he'd knocked, but waved for him to enter. "Are you… better now, Goten?" he asked warily.

"Almost." Goten sat quietly on the other twin bed, considered his since their childhood, sensing that detail had changed. After an awkward silence, he asked Trunks, "Have you ever been in love?"

Trunks looked surprised at the question, but at least he was talking to him again. "I thought I was a couple times, but… dunno." He hesitated. "Have you?"

"Maybe," Goten replied dully. But I blew it, he mentally added.

"Something wrong there?" Trunks marked his page, and set his book aside.

"I don't know," Goten repeated. Trunks was his best friend - for now at least - and he'd been unfair, he knew. Without thinking, he told him the whole story of the pills, his addiction, and the result, of course leaving out Vegeta's true role. There. He knew.

"Holy shit," Trunks whistled under his breath. Aside from a few questions, he was quiet. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, the situation beginning to make sense now. "I wish you'd told me earlier, but I guess I understand." So, his father had saved his life. That explained why he felt it was his duty to fix, he thought.

They ended up talking until evening, seeing them relieved that their friendship was intact. Trunks could sense the missing link, but thought not of it now, knowing how difficult it was for him. He still had a lot to go through, and needed time, which was understandable. Of course he would tell no one, he promised. But it would be okay, he thought. That was the important thing.

-:-

The rest of the evening from dinner to later on was unusually silent, making the spacious house seem empty. Goten did not dare to go to the small office as usual, though he did not know if sleep were possible. Instead, he returned to the small spare room, where he'd moved his packed bag for the time being. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall as Vegeta had done earlier.

Near bedtime, he heard a knock from a familiar ki at his door. He looked up in surprise to see Vegeta slowly enter, then looked down at the floor. Seeing him in his pyjamas, he clearly had the same thought of turning in early.

The latter's face was as grim and blank as his own, yet darkened as he sat on the edge of the bed as well. "How are you doing?" he asked simply.

"I don't know. Kind of off," Goten replied, but did not look at him.

Vegeta placed a smaller dose in his hand, with a glass of water on the night table. "This will help you sleep," he told him simply, both knowing that it was back to the original program.

Goten nodded and compliantly swallowed them, but doubted it. The pills would do their job, but had no say over whether he could sleep.

"You okay?" Goten asked, still looking at the floor. He was sure it was something else, but did not know what, and he could not ask.

"Huh?" Vegeta shook his head at his own absent mind of late. "Yeah."

Goten swallowed hard. "You don't hate me?" He still looked at the floor.

Vegeta looked at him for the first time that night. "No. Maybe it's me who isn't ready," he acknowledged, "It messes up my head or something."

"I'm sorry," Goten repeated. He hadn't thought of that, feeling guilty again.

"It's not that bad," Vegeta explained, "It was just in the wrong order."

"The wrong order?" Goten could at least look at him.

Vegeta managed a small smile. "Yeah." He stood to close, then carefully lock the door before messing up the other twin bed, and returning. "I was told the least I could do is stay here to make sure you're okay. Don't you think that's a good idea? Move over," he added with a small smirk.

Gladly stunned, Goten made room on the small bed. Vegeta slid in on his side, quickly switching off the lamp.

Not knowing what to say, Goten informed him, "I told Trunks. About the meds, I mean."

"I hoped you would," Vegeta replied. He slid an arm around the demi Saiyan to pull him close. "This is the right order."

Goten closed his eyes, relieved to finally get the opportunity to, well, quite literally sleep with him. "Good, because I like it."

"You said you want to bring me to your hidden place, right?" Vegeta recalled, "In a different forest, I guess."

"Definitely!" Goten declared, elated that he'd remembered, and curled up in his long coveted embrace. "Good night, Vegeta."

_('Do not tell me how wonderful things will be... some day. Show me you can risk being completely at peace, truly okay with the way things are now in this moment, and again in the next, and in the next, and the next...')_

"Good night, 'Ten." For the first night in weeks, Vegeta's eyes closed peacefully. It was not going to be easy - he had no illusions of that - but often, a little happiness went a long way in making one strong enough to handle the darker sides of life. It would just have to be one day at a time. He brushed back a soft tendril of Goten's hair from his face, accepting his drowsy kiss. Yeah, he could do that.

**_\- Intermission -_ **

-:-

Though Vegeta succeded in his promise to sever him, the next couple of months was a time Goten preferred to forget, a lesson learned at a steep price for them both.

-:-

There was still something odd going on with Vegeta and Goten, Bulma thought, unable to shake a nagging if irrational suspicion. What were they still doing all the time in that rarely used office?

Once, as the door had been left open to a crack, she watched quietly for some time. The two of them were seated on the couch talking, too low to be heard. While that was nothing strange in itself, Vegeta talking to someone like a normal person was a rare sight. They talked a lot, she noticed, in the office or elsewhere, alone or in the company of people they were used to. Indeed, she'd long since forgotten her admittedly ridiculous accusation. Maybe it was actually nothing, she'd decided.

Then one day, she saw the two of them emerge from the office, clearly unaware of being seen. She knew not what had been said, but Goten lightly squeezed Vegeta's arm, and the secretive smile and mysterious look that passed between them sent cold chills of dread down her spine.

-:-

**TBC in Part 2, Chapter 5...**

-:-

**Soundtrack:** (Metallica M.O.P album)

-Disposable Heroes: https://youtu.be/k16joH4lzWw

-Master of Puppets: https://youtu.be/RTyAmcg7cz4  
+  
-Still Loving You, Scorpions


	5. Part 2, Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stakes are raised when Goten is faced with knowing he can't help Vegeta with what he thinks might be a problem, & finding peace becomes more difficult. Will they have any ally, or will they lose everyone they care for? [Tarot card: 5 of Cups]

**Part 2, Chapter 5**

**_The Calm Before the Storm_ **

※

**_Spring~_ **

-:-

A gust of propelled wind swept through a cluster of trees below, scattering grassy debris on the ground as Gohan smoothly landed his and Videl's helicopter near his parents' home.

They could have flown faster on their own, but also planned on picking up weekly groceries and dry cleaning, part of their Saturday errands.

"I doubt we'll be staying long, anyway," Videl commented to Gohan.

"I know," Gohan sighed listlessly, hoisting their daughter onto his shoulders.

Pan rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently, then jumped into Goku's arms when he answered. "Grandpa!"

The eldest Son man, whose eternally boyish appearance did not fit such a title, grinned as he patted her back. "There's my girl," he commented proudly. "ChiChi," he called into the next room.

The three of them looked around, sensing one missing ki. "Goten's not here again?" Gohan asked, unsurprised.

"No," Goku confirmed as ChiChi joined them, to Pan's disappointment.

"Why?" the small girl demanded indignantly, sulking, "He never plays with me anymore."

"He's at Capsule Corp, dear," ChiChi told her, "He should be home next week, unless you'll be in West City."

"It's out of the way," Gohan replied doubtfully, "Vegeta's still got him in boot camp?"

"I hate Vegeta-san!" Pan exclaimed crossly, scowling.

"Pan!" Videl scolded her, "Don't say mean things."

"But he is mean," Pan retorted stubbornly, "He's being selfish."

An awkward silence fell over the group, before ChiChi added, frowning, "Goten's there more often than here, and we rarely see him without Vegeta."

"Guess we gotta make reservations," Gohan ironized, "I haven't seen him in over a year."

"Well, he is his sensei," Goku reasoned.

"I guess you're right," Gohan conceded, thinking of all he owed to Piccolo.

"Well, stay for lunch," ChiChi told them, "You're visiting us, too, aren't you?"

"Of course, ChiChi," Videl replied with a smile, and they followed her to the kitchen, where the smell of roasted chicken welcomed them.

Goku waved them ahead, concealing his consterned expression.

-:-

As did everyone who knew the Saiyan prince, Goten routinely waited for the best time to approach him with an idea. That was usually after he'd trained and cleaned up.

Lately, however, that had changed. His training with Trunks and himself had become more seldom, and after his solitary practice, he silently brooded for long periods of time.

Confounded, Goten waited until whatever occupied him had reasonably passed to join him outside, seated in the backyard.

"Why don't you train with me anymore?" he asked again, not truly expecting an answer.

"I have a lot to work on," Vegeta replied simply, staring noncommittally at the horizon.

"Maybe a break would help," Goten prompted. At the other's sarcastic, sidelong glance, he specified, "I mean a change of scenery. Remember what I asked you last year, where I wanted to bring you?"

Vegeta's expression changed and he nodded, suggesting that he was at least thinking about it, and Goten waited hopefully.

At that moment, Trunks leaned out the back door to announce, "Goten, Gohan's here. And apparently, your niece has a bone to pick with you."

Goten grinned and stood up, though the timing was less than perfect.

Curiously, Vegeta followed the demi Saiyans inside from afar.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" Gohan drawled, but smiled as he clapped Goten's shoulder.

"Very funny," Goten replied dryly, nevertheless realizing that he'd missed his brother. "How are you, Videl?" he inquired pleasantly.

"Doing fine. How about you, Goten?" She studied him as he held up a peace sign, reflecting that he looked different, in a way she couldn't place.

"Why don't you come play with me anymore, Oji-san?" Pan demanded with the tactlessness of her age, reminding them of her mother when she was angry.

"My dad and Trunks don't play with me anymore, either," Bra sympathized.

"Not the same." Pan stubbornly folded her arms, glaring daggers at Vegeta when he entered the spacious salon. "You keep squatting my playtime with Goten," she railed accusingly, "You're mean and selfish!"

"Pan!" Videl scolded her again with embarrassment.

Vegeta only raised an amused eyebrow. "I try," he replied calmly.

"You're here now, and training isn't the same as playing," Gohan reminded her. He mentally shrunk from Vegeta's expected glare on that subject, surprised that the latter wasn't paying attention. Like Videl, he watched him and Goten, puzzled.

Realizing his acquired habit of unconsciously standing next to Vegeta, Goten picked up Pan. "You are your mother's revenge on me, aren't you?" He knuckle-rubbed her head, making her giggle.

The conversation turned to enough pleasant small talk to make Vegeta uncomfortable and wander off. Videl and Bulma began talking while the two little girls played, so Gohan took the opportunity to speak with Goten for real.

The Son brothers stepped outside, and Goten observed that Gohan seemed more like the big brother he remembered than a professor in a suit, cooped up inside all day.

"So, I guess whatever was wrong is okay now?" Gohan ventured.

"It has been for a long time," Goten replied, supposing him to be busily overworked and rarely informed.

"Nah, you look great," Gohan specified, "I just didn't realize your training was such serious work."

Goten frowned to himself, believing to sense Gohan's thought that he would turn out to be a thinly-veiled bum with no ambition. "Serious enough for Dad and Vegeta. Why not me, because I'm not good at anything useful?"

Gohan sighed in exasperation. "Cut it out. If Pan is a drama queen, she gets it honest."

"What do you mean?" Goten asked warily.

"Goten, it's only me," Gohan reminded him, "I just meant it's unusual. Vegeta-san must be a good sensei to you. I never would've guessed that."

"Well, Dad said Piccolo-san was his enemy before, too," Goten pointed out.

"Yeah, and he definitely didn't make mine easy," Gohan agreed, "Best thing he ever did for me, though."

"Then why did you really stop training?" Goten asked rhetorically.

Gohan chuckled. "Yep, I see the influence."

"I mean for real," Goten insisted impatiently, "Not Dad's 'I only fight when I must' line."

"Well, it's true. But no, I don't like to fight. When you've had to do it for so long and lost so much, it loses its charm," Gohan replied dryly.

Goten nodded to himself. /Could I be a real warrior like Vegeta?/ he thought, /And willing to go through what he does now, still paying the price for it?/ He would not tell anyone what he believed to have noticed, that Vegeta concealed even from him, though he suspected that Gohan would know something about it.

"I meant to ask," Goten inquired casually, "A friend of mine said her uncle hasn't been the same since he came back from war - screwed up, y'know - do you think full-blooded Saiyans are immune to things like that?"

Gohan noticed the familiar way he'd been speaking of his sensei, but assumed he did not address him thus. "I'm not sure," he replied thoughtfully, "He and Dad never seemed phased by it. Do you think otherwise?"

"Just wondering if they have powers we don't," Goten shrugged off, hesitating. "Could you find me some info about that?"

Gohan frowned. It was clear that the native Saiyans had not had what were considered by Earth's standards to be normal lives, but had lived by a completely different system. Also, they were not human, in terms of biological genus.

The two duelling natures dwelled within the demi Saiyans like fire and ice, obliging them to tread a shaky balance within themselves. He wondered how they would have adapted on the old planet, if the situation were reversed.

If it concerned Vegeta, however, that was not a dumb question on Goten's part, and he nodded. "I'll see what I can find. But I can't promise it'll be accurate, since nothing is officially known about Saiyans."

"Sure," he blew off, and fell silent.

Gohan considered him. "Trunks said you guys talk a lot," Gohan commented, "Maybe give it time."

"Maybe," Goten echoed doubtfully, but told him, "We'll be going away for a bit to train."

"That's not a bad idea," Gohan replied encouragingly, "Try to convince him to take a break. Maybe go fishing or something."

Goten grinned at the improbable idea. "I'll try."

Gohan lightly told him, "Stranger things have happened. Your first impression of Vegeta-san wasn't the same as mine. You also didn't meet our uncle Raditz. Maybe he would've changed, too, who knows."

 _Raditz,_ Goten thought, a light going on in his mind. _Of_ _course_. "Yeah, maybe." He changed the subject. "What's going on with you guys?"

"Same old," Gohan replied in a voice of nonchalance, "But I have an assistant professor now, so you can visit more often. And I'll have more time for a life."

They laughed, and spoke of lighter matters for the rest of their conversation. Eventually, they headed back inside to join the others, while Goten began to repay his playtime debt to Pan.

-:-

Videl paused as she accepted a second cup of coffee, stirring in a cloud of milk. "…Different how?" she inquired.

Bulma stared into her own cup, as though trying to read the future. "Maybe it really is my imagination," she wondered aloud, "Trunks said it was most likely a joke."

"Hm… it probably was," Videl reassured her, "Piccolo-san doesn't have much sense of humor, either, but Gohan jokes with him sometimes."

"I just look paranoid, so I don't say anything," Bulma recounted impatiently, "But I tell you, it's creepy as hell."

Videl watched her thoughtfully. "How so?"

Bulma hesitated at voicing her thoughts. "Tell me the truth, Videl. Do you get the impression there's something weird going on with them?"

Videl glanced into the sitting room, where the rest of the group was gathered. "I think Goten just needed a mentor," she reasoned, omitting to mention the prince's ego.

"No, I mean something more than that," the blue-haired scientist clarified, also watching them. At the other woman's puzzled look, she confided, "There hasn't been anything between us for many years now, if you see what I mean."

"Oh." Videl was quiet for a moment, sensing her embarassment, but shook her head confidently. "Before we lost Mother, she was everything to my dad. Since then, all he did was drink and pick up women. Not as much anymore, but believe me, I know flirting when I see it."

"Well, if you're sure," Bulma replied doubtfully, knowing the difference of subtlety between the two examples. Though, she also knew that by her sharp perception, Videl had missed her calling as a detective.

Videl offered an awkward smile as she accepted a biscuit. Something indeed seemed odd between the two, but if there truly were such a mess, she was not about to get caught in the middle of it.

-:-

Catching sight of Vegeta standing off to himself by a large bay window, Gohan joined him to look outside.

"How are you, Vegeta-san?" he inquired politely.

"I'm well," the latter replied simply.

"I wanted to say thanks for helping Goten out," Gohan bade him, getting to the point as he preferred, "He worried us for a long time. I'm glad he's doing better."

Vegeta nodded his welcome, but said only, "Your father would do the same for Trunks."

"Of course," Gohan agreed, silently observing him. Finally he added, "It must have been difficult for you as well."

"Why do you say that?"

"As you know, our sense of honor is strong," Gohan diplomatically explained, "Goten surely knows he owes you, and he likes to feel useful. Maybe you could find a way for him to do so?"

"He doesn't owe me anything," Vegeta stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, okay," Gohan replied, "But you know, even though he's your pupil, Goten's a good friend… a good ally you can count on," he corrected at the elder Saiyan's peculiar glance.

"I should hope so," the latter commented, deciding the Son men's ways were indeed genetic.

Gohan hesitated, unsure of what to say to him. "How's the training going?" he settled on, as familiar terrain.

"We're planning an excursion to get out of a rut," Vegeta replied, "Indeed, our tactics may be improved by a… change of scenery."

"Yeah, he mentioned it. That's a great idea," Gohan replied enthusiastically, "New horizons can be inspiring." He beamed, wondering if Goten really would connive him into taking a break.

"Maybe," Vegeta conceded absently, glancing at the neglected musculature of his arms through his long-sleeved T-shirt. "I suppose you'll be getting back in minimal shape for your daughter's practice," he told him flatly.

Gohan nodded, quickly replying, "Yes, I'll have more time for that now." He knew that the other Saiyan was not happy with his son's academics lessening his time for practice, as he clearly saw Gohan as a bad example to him. Perhaps seeing his idea of hope in Goten balanced that out, he thought with a pang of guilt. "Well, have a nice time," he bade, to end on a pleasant tone.

Vegeta nodded with a vague glance, turning back absent-mindledly to the window.

-:-

Gohan left him on that note, seeing Trunks signal him with a two-fingered wave and a friendly smile from the hallway. It struck him that the other demi Saiyan was now the same age as his future counterpart had been when he'd met him, and he returned the greeting.

"Hey, Trunks, how's it going?" It was easy to guess what was on his mind, seeing as Goten seemed to be on everyone's shit list again.

"It's good to see you, Gohan," Trunks replied cheerfully, "I'm glad you stopped by. Our schedules have been too crazy for visits."

Gohan nodded. "How's college prep going?"

"Don't remind me." Trunks rubbed a hand over his hair. "Classes are okay, but our tutor's a bitch who doesn't think we have lives."

Gohan snickered. "I remember those. But university will be cool, and when you're president of Capsule Corp, you'll be doing what you like."

"Not really," Trunks admitted, "Mom and Grandpa didn't leave me the choice. Goten's lucky. I still can't believe your mom let him quit."

"Me, neither," Gohan agreed, "All the battles changed her mind, but we wonder how he'll make a living. Now she's strict about his training."

"Yeah, I noticed." Trunks walked the long hallway with Gohan, who was admiring a new collection of watercolor paintings on the walls.

"Don't you guys hang out much anymore?" Gohan inquired. A painting of an old bridge over a river near a cherry tree caught his eye. Whether it depicted a sunrise or a sunset was not discernable, but it was beautiful and expensive.

Trunks shook his head, puzzled. "That's why I talk to you more than him. He acts different, and isn't interested in the same things anymore. Mom thinks it's weird, too."

Gohan was thoughtful. "Weird in a bad way?"

"No," Trunks replied, though ambivalent, so as not to offend him. "You like those paintings?" he asked to change the subject.

Gohan nodded, leaning closer to inspect them. "They look familiar."

"They're done by a local artist no one knows anything about," Trunks told him, "Grandma loved them, and bought them at an auction."

Gohan nodded again, fascinated, as they seemed to tell a story with varying moods in similar settings. "We must have seen them somewhere, then," he commented.

"Trunks, can we borrow your video games?" Bra interrupted, she and Pan pulling Goten with them. The latter shrugged with a helpless look.

"If you're careful with them," Trunks grudgingly agreed, muttering to his little sister, "Break them and I'll kick your ass."

Gohan looked amused by his brother's reproachful glare at Trunks. "Aren't these nice, Goten?" he asked of the paintings.

"Yeah, cool," Goten replied impatiently, before his mini captors dragged him off.

The other young men grinned, resuming their walk to the veranda.

"How's your promotion going?" Trunks asked.

"Pretty good," Gohan reported, "My new assistant's a big help, even if our students are less enthusiastic about math."

"Well, if you think of me and take pity on them, I'll try not to call my tutor a bitch," Trunks suggested.

"Deal," Gohan agreed, skaking his head at wondering if the current president was worried for the company's future.

-:-

Some time after they'd left, Goten waited for Vegeta outside again, behind a row of shrubs on the edge of the expansive property. It was becoming more difficult to find shared spaces, at Capsule Corp or elsewhere.

A bit later, Vegeta rejoined him, squeezing his shoulder as he sat next to him. Both reclined on the grass heads opposite, and neither spoke, looking up at the clouds tracing paths across a blue sky. Their silence was never uncomfortable.

Finally, Vegeta picked up where they'd left off. "You were asking me something before?"

Goten smiled slowly. "Yeah, and Gohan gave me an idea for an alibi - kind of like when when Piccolo-san taught him survival."

"I hate that word," Vegeta muttered aloud.

"It's just an idea for an excuse," Goten added optimistically, "No concern of ours."

"What's the place like?" Vegeta asked, forgetting the thought.

"I told you, you'll see," Goten replied with a mysterious smile, "I thought we'd stay about a week, more or less. I'm sure you'll want to."

"I see now." Vegeta grinned. "I'll leave the details to you, then." He paused. "I wondered why you haven't asked to spend the night lately."

"Because Bulma's been giving me weird looks," Goten confided, "You, too, I guess you noticed. I don't get why she even cares."

"She probably still thinks it's to get back at her." Vegeta leaned his head back onto his shoulder, his eyes closing tiredly.

"It'll do you good," Goten encouraged, "You look like crap."

"Well, thanks," Vegeta retorted dryly.

"I mean like you haven't slept in ages," Goten clarified. Indeed, his eyes were slightly bloodshot with dark, puffy shadows underneath them. "I'm sure that will change," he affirmed confidently, "Unless you're afraid they'll find out."

"Easy enough for you. To them, you would just be the poor sucker I corrupted because I could," Vegeta speculated flatly.

"I'm still waiting for my 'corruption,'" Goten .

" impatient," Vegeta . Getting away from the place was like a dream. Still, his fists closed unconsciously in his lap.

Goten hesitated. "Something wrong?"

"No." But Vegeta was quiet at his turn.

"Vegeta…" Goten warned with a tinge of reproach.

"Just tired, like you said," Vegeta closed the subject, "It's best to leave when the week begins, if you see what I mean."

Goten nodded, as it would not look like a vacation that way. He doubted that his senpai had ever taken one in his life, as he did not like to travel, and no wonder. "Good idea," he agreed. The other Saiyan was clearly not happy with his own technique, adding to the stress of leading a risky double life, and becoming paranoid of every glance and comment from their families. It was getting on both their nerves.

Sensing Goten's worry, Vegeta told him, "You're right, it'll be a nice change."

Goten beamed confidently, sure that it would be.

-:-

**_The sakura place~_ **

Early Monday morning while the rest of the household was busy, Vegeta and Goten left in uniform, with only a backpack and a cooler each.

Having seen the former Saiyan speaking with Piccolo and Goku the day before, no one seemed to find the excursion odd, certainly imagining an operation worthy of the Foreign Legion.

Vegeta followed Goten's obscure flight directions through the damp morning fog to an unfamiliar region, taking mental notes of the route.

"I always take a different path, but this is the main one," Goten casually told him, "Our ki will be hidden. Sorry it's a little complicated."

"I noticed," Vegeta muttered, regretting having left his radar device behind, as the demi Saiyan had asked. It would be too easy for someone to pick up the signal, he'd explained.

"You never know," Goten commented, sensing his frustration, "It could save our lives someday."

"Not a bad defense strategy," Vegeta admitted, memorizing the labyrinth of cliff crevices that led to an immense, virgin forest.

"Yeah, or in case my mother finds out," Goten added.

The wind and humidity from the long flight had begun to sting their eyes when Goten finally announced, "Here we are." Hovering in mid-air, he pointed to a dense cluster of trees in the forest below. "There. The sakura."

"Huh?"

"The pink cherry tree in bloom," he specified, "Out of season, you can see two big Y-shaped branches, one on each side."

"Got it." Vegeta followed his path to the region below, circling a detour around the other trees, and approaching it once concealed by the dense folliage. When they'd landed, the said tree was farther away than it had appeared, across a large stream.

"Of course it's easier to fly across, but check this out," Goten told him with a mirthful grin, "I made this bridge, but careful. The brownish stones look stronger, but they'll break on purpose."

Where the water ran in noisy, dangerously choppy rapids, he led him across a rope footbridge that held up small, rugged stepping stones, each which swung to and fro in the wind. It creaked as though it would give out, but both nimbly lept the gray stones a splits' distance apart from one to the next, until they were safely across.

"Clever," Vegeta acknowledged, admiring his handiwork.

"You've seen nothing yet," Goten cheerfully warned him. From the other side was a similar bridge, though it stretched over a yawning, seemingly bottomless chasm between two cliffs. They walked a slight distance through a thick white mist from a nearby waterfall enshrouding his claimed hideout, until they arrived at the cluster of trees. Within it, the mist gradually cleared away, and the stream was a calm, limpid blue.

In the center, Goten's sakura tree stood proudly in its splendor of rich, pale pink blossoms in their prime, glistening with early morning dew like tiny diamonds winking in the first prismic sunbeams of the day. The contrast with the myriad deep greens surrounding them gave the place an etheric, magical look, as though inhabited by tiny fairies and wood sprites.

Vegeta looked around wordlessly, never having seen such magnificent surroundings in the midst of musical silence.

"Strange," he mumbled aloud.

"What's strange?"

"It looks like I've been here before, but…" Vegeta shook his head. "I'm sure I haven't."

"Maybe someplace similar?" Goten suggested.

"Maybe," Vegeta agreed, but dismissed it.

"You like it?" Goten asked timidly, knowing that the other Saiyan never paid attention to aesthetics.

Vegeta nodded, still exploring Goten's, and now his, secret realm. "I've seen these trees, but just in parks full of tourists." Here, only the soft chirping of birds and squirrels mingled with the liquid whispering of the quiet stream. An occasional breeze rustled through the freshly unfurled leaves, offering a comfortable temperature with the faint perfume of woodsy, minty green, and the delicate cherry blossoms above. A few loose petals floated down around them, in a gracefully twirling dance through the air.

Relieved and pleased by his approval, Goten beamed. "No tourists here, but we gotta finish your tour."

"Tour?" Vegeta wondered what could be missing from the idyllic spot.

Goten nodded eagerly. "It'd take all week to show you all the hiding places and the rest, but for the main ones…" He knelt at the expansive tree root, where Vegeta joined him, and pulled back some tightly compacted moss and leaves. A generous part of the root was hollow, where he moved aside a bark-tray of various nuts and acorns. "Squirrel-bribe," he explained with a wink.

Vegeta shook his head, but indeed, there were a few stacks of books, a folded tent, fishing poles, and diverse items, covered to protect them from the elements.

"You can put anything you need to hide here, or in other places up there." He pointed out some upper branches. Vegeta nodded, and they placed their bags in the hollow.

"What are those?" the latter asked of a set of brushes, multicolored tubes, palettes, and assorted items beside them.

"Sometimes I paint," Goten explained, looking uncomfortable at the fear of ridicule.

"Paint what?" Vegeta inquired.

"Pictures of scenery here," Goten replied, "Nothing special."

"Can I see?" Vegeta asked curiously.

Goten hesitated. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

"If it's important to you, sure," Vegeta replied, wondering why the secrecy.

Goten opened a long cylinder, then reluctantly handed him a rolled stack of finished canvases.

Vegeta examined them, his expression turning incredulous. "…the hell," he muttered.

"You don't like them?"

Vegeta looked up at him, astonished. "Goten, I've seen these before! Ones like them. They're hanging on the wall back at the house." He looked again at the yet unframed works of art. Goten painted these?

Goten scratched his head. "Well, yeah," he confirmed.

Vegeta looked more closely at one, mentally face-palming. No wonder this place looked familiar. "These are worth thousands each! You're a renowned artist, and never told me?"

"I just did," Goten proclaimed helplessly, "I didn't think you were interested in art." He paused. "How did you recognize them?"

"Trunks' grandmother decided to redecorate," Vegeta recounted. As the demi Saiyan had been at school, she'd brought him along to carry her purchases. She'd wanted watercolor paintings, and had shown him this collection. "I had no idea they were yours," he concluded. He blinked at the coincidence, wondering about the odds.

Goten looked up at him, his wide eyes lit with astonishment. "Really?"

Vegeta nodded and studied him. "What made you decide to sell them?"

Goten shrugged. "I painted for years, but it was just a hobby. One day, my mother was yelling at me again about how I was gonna make a living. It got on my nerves, but I knew she was right. It sucked never having enough money. My art teacher said my stuff was good enough to sell, so I took one to an art gallery in West City for an opinion. They gave me five hundred zeni in cash right away plus consignment for it, and an offer to buy more. We made an agreement that I'd remain anonymous as a business strategy. It works, too."

"Why anonymous?"

"The mystery makes them worth more," Goten explained, "Everyone thinks the landscapes are imaginary."

Vegeta nodded, casting him a furtively proud glance. "They're nice. I didn't know you had such a talent."

"Thanks." Goten blushed at the compliment, his eyes cast downward. "I also wondered that if you're really serious about me, how will we live? I don't know if there'll be enough, but I'll have my first half million this time next year."

"Baka." But Vegeta paused, staring at him. "Half /million?/"

"Yep. I opened a bank account nobody knows about," Goten told him, "I can add you when I don't need my fake ID anymore."

Overlooking the latter detail, Vegeta sternly demanded, "Don't you think that part's for me to take care of?"

Goten's eyes sullenly fixed the windswept grass before them. "Because I should stay useless?"

Vegeta's face darkened in turn. "Like the constant reminders I get that my only 'use' is as a free soldier when we're attacked? Why do you think I made sure over half the space program is mine? Listen, just surviving is no different than dying, and fuck that."

A bitter, heavy silence hung almost palpably in the air, and Goten never forgot those latter words. But had she really said such a thing, or had he overthought and read into something? It spoke much of his long silences, but he knew better than to ask right now.

Vegeta continued, "Literally everything can be taken from you in one fell swoop, except your dignity. I'd better not _ever_ see you lower your head, no matter what, got it? Unless you're looking at something defeated on the ground, to kick it outa your sight with a smile." Goten nodded, which satisfied him sufficiently to calm his voice. "No, I certainly don't wish that on you."

He turned his back, and Goten watched him, perplexed at wondering what had set him off. Vegeta had been lighthearted and in fair spirits all morning.

"What's the matter, Vegeta?" Goten asked firmly after a long pause, confounded and unwilling to accept 'nothing,' or some equally lame reply.

The other Saiyan was quiet for a moment, sensing it. "Nothing you've done. I just don't want you thinking like that."

"Well, you seem to think like that." Goten watched him carefully, but was met with more silence, his senpai's point having been made. "You know, I brought you here to get away from all that," he reminded him, "You don't think you can tell me if something's wrong?" A note of reproach had crept into his voice.

"Nothing's wrong." Vegeta turned back to face him obliviously. "Just random things. I didn't mean to alarm you." His crisply courteous tone and 'subject closed' expression were clear enough.

Goten frowned to himself, but nodded. "If you didn't get enough sleep, we can take a nap. No schedule here," he added lightly.

"Sure, later," Vegeta agreed, "You were gonna show me the rest?" It was true that they'd been up since well before sunrise, though the place was not large.

"There's a lot left to see," Goten contrarily told him, wondering if it would be best to wait. "I could use one, too." They'd both stayed up late the night before, for such an early day.

Vegeta joined him where he'd knelt at the cachette to roll his canvases back up, slipping an arm around him. "I hope you'll make me one." His softened tone of voice matched the light, suggestive strokes of his fingertips that traced his back.

"Of course." Goten's eyes closed halfway at his touch. "You like them, really?"

"Enough to make everyone jealous and ask questions," Vegeta confirmed, winning him the kind of soft smile he wanted as the demi Saiyan replaced the cylinder and camouflage. "There's something about you in that uniform when we have no intention of training," he added, before roughly pulling him onto his lap for an unexpected, sultry embrace.

Goten visibly melted into a heated kiss, his hands appreciatively caressing his perfect musculature. Only Vegeta could make a simple tank top and sweats look so sexy, he thought likewise, his arms encircling his slender waist. "We kind of are, just a different subject," he returned, sucking greedily on his lips, which began to devour his own.

His fingers interlaced possessively with Vegeta's, causing him to note again with a thrill that he rarely wore his gloves anymore, only a pair of white wristbands that complemented his own black ones, the yang to his yin.

Now, he could not help a low groan to feel his fingertips tickling his palm with a clear message, intensifying the insistant stirring between his legs.

"I want you like you're really mine, not contraband," Vegeta echoed aloud.

"If you see me like that, it's for real," Goten told him, but snickered at his choice of words.

"What?"

"Just the way you said it," Goten replied lightly, but stopped mid-giggle at what his mouth was doing to the side of his throat.

Vegeta smirked softly in satisfaction against his warm skin at making him forget his thought, knowing exactly how and where to trace his fingers down his spine to make his back arch with longing, and unconsciously pulled him forward as the demi Saiyan leaned back invitingly.

Goten could not help but squirm sensually against him, the way his teeth sunk lightly into the side of his neck while he teasingly fingered his tail spot, worsening his yearning. "If you keep that up, I won't even try to behave," he warned through uneven breaths.

"Did I say I want you to behave?" Vegeta whispered silkily, his fingertips tracing slowly up his parted thighs to his rigid heat. He could not resist the sadistic thrill of teasing him to the trembling edge of first wetness, only to gently calm him down as though it were nothing.

Though he craved release almost to tears, Goten could not deny how exciting that felt, and the exhileration of not having to keep still.

Goten's lips feverishly went back to Vegeta's own, feeling him sigh in his embrace as he returned the toe-curling affection he'd been waiting for. The demi Saiyan's exciting pink tongue slid meaningfully between his lips as he squeezed his perfectly toned ass, making his breathing fall short.

Vegeta's hand firmly squeezed his arm, a wordless gesture which meant for him to calm down. Goten was learning to be more patient, as much as his mind fast-forwarded to a time when they would not need to be. Still, he curled up restfully next to him in the shade against the tree, where they settled for their nap in contented stillness.

"Stop wiggling," Vegeta mumbled, having found a comfortable position on the soft grass.

"Not my fault you made me horny," Goten mumbled back into his thick hair, but played with it in fascination, as always.

"Did I?" Vegeta asked innocently, but smirked over his shoulder.

Goten lifted his knee to smugly feel his equally sensitive hardness. "Like you're totally unaffected," he commented dryly, swearing to himself that he would otherwise take them all the way right then. He settled for draping one leg around him to keep the sexy contact, knowing that Vegeta liked to sleep in a state of unsated desire. It did help to avoid thinking of less desirable things.

Each allowed both eyes to close, because they could. All was quiet as far as their senses could perceive, with no witnesses except a few small diurnal forest animals, who did not mind them. It was the first time he'd seen Vegeta actually rest in several months, Goten reflected, hoping the nights would be as peaceful.

After an hour's nap, the residual mist from the stream beyond had mostly dissipated, affording a clearer view in the shaded sunlight.

Vegeta glanced around lazily, noticing how accustomed to the place Goten was. The latter took two cans of iced coffee from his cooler and handed him one.

"Have you watched the hanami festival before?" he inquired, more precisely meaning voluntarily so.

"I never saw the point," Vegeta replied flatly, "Trees go through the same cycles every year."

Goten only smiled. "Maybe you'll like it better here," he added mysteriously.

It was quite nice, Vegeta had to admit. Perhaps it would be different in such a tranquil setting, without the annoyance of crowds.

"How long have you had this place?" Vegeta asked, wondering just how much of him no one even knew.

"Since I was little," Goten recalled, "I found it by accident one day, but I always came back. It was the only place that was ever just mine. I never thought I'd bring anyone, though."

Vegeta glanced thoughtfully at him. "It's an honor, then," he stated in dignified sincerity.

Goten looked up in surprise, then quickly back down, feeling his cheeks blush. "As much for me that you accepted," he returned likewise.

After a few moments of silence, Goten looked up, seeing their cans empty, and placed them in his recycling bin. "Wanna see the rest?" he offered.

"Why not." Vegeta stood to follow him through the thickening forest.

Goten smiled as they walked, then pointed out a sparse patch of folliage. "Right past those, but mind the traps."

"You're expecting an invasion?" Vegeta was able to spot them, but most people would find themselves in an uncomfortable posture.

"You never know."

-:-

Returning to the sakura tree which they now referred to as base, Goten pushed aside a row of briars for them to pass, then they continued their walk.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself after a few minutes at a cut on his brow from a thorn.

"Huh?" Vegeta turned to see what slowed him down.

"I gotta find one of those bandage plants," Goten explained, "There are none nearby."

"For that?" Vegeta asked doubtfully, then saw the problem of blood dripping into his eye, which he knew stung and obscured his vision. "Hang on."

He knelt at the tree root and withdrew his backpack from the cache, then took out a blue and white box.

"You brought a first aid kit?" Goten asked in dubious amusement.

"It was easier than arguing with the woman," Vegeta replied dryly, and Goten nodded sympathetically. He quickly patched up the cut, while Goten looked at the box's contents.

Aside from the expected items, he recognized a senzu bean pouch, as well as an orange prescription bottle. He picked it up, less amused to read the too familiar ingredient, under his own name.

"Vegeta?" He only gave the latter his rare, interrogating look which meant that bullshit was useless at that point.

"I didn't tell anyone about it," Vegeta informed him defensively.

"No doubt," Goten retorted dryly. He himself hadn't needed or even touched any in several months. He'd allowed Vegeta to try one, that he knew of, and now dreaded to ask. He'd known the risks when he had taken it, but hadn't cared. And Vegeta had not judged him for it, despite how betrayed he knew he'd felt at the time. Knowing as much as he did about it, what could be that bad to make him resort to the same thing?

Goten said nothing for several moments, before he tersely appealed, "I always told you the truth. It's all I ask from you."

Vegeta folded his arms, darkly silent at his turn. "Sometimes I take them so I can sleep. There's no addiction."

Goten nodded soberly. That made sense, with one less problem. His real concern was what could be causing his known sleeplessness to the point of pushing him to take those, after he'd seen their damage. His own training progress clearly suffered as well now, and how he of all people could stand for that was beyond him.

He knew more about the truth of the other Saiyan's past than those who'd been there to witness it, including his categorical refusal to be controlled; unless, of course, it suited his purpose.

Beyond Goten's adamant possessiveness of this knowledge, the small voice of truth in the back of his mind echoed that of the one person who'd seen the fact immediately: Goku.

But he indignantly rebelled against what had been an even more bitter pill to swallow in the past, and in the past it stayed. He, Goten, was Vegeta's equal, not his father. This was for himself to handle, and none other.

Goten turned back to Vegeta. "What's been disturbing your sleep?" he asked, simply but directly.

"I've no idea." Vegeta propped his elbows on his knees and slumped. "Don't you think I'd fix it for real if I knew?" He kicked the box away in halfhearted frustration.

"Well, yeah." Goten's voice became subdued, hoping that Vegeta would not doubt his understanding. "Bad thoughts?"

Vegeta raised his palms apathetically. "Ones that won't shut up, and usually make no sense."

"And those are all that make them shut up?"

Vegeta nodded grimly. "Except when I'm finally too tired to think."

Goten looked pained. "Why didn't you tell me?

"You already knew," Vegeta replied stubbornly, "If you mean the pills, I don't care about the drunk phase."

Goten didn't bother correcting him this time, relieved at least for that. He thought for a moment, then suggested, "I know something that might help. I'll show you tonight, if you want."

"Sure," Vegeta replied, glad for the change of subject.

"Maybe you'll let me show you the point of going fishing?" Goten asked hopefully.

"Let me guess, Gohan's idea?" Vegeta commented in dry amusement, but agreed at seeing his kohai's expression brighten as quickly.

"No, why?" At the lack of his usual objection, Goten cheerfully took the two poles and a small tackle box from the cache.

"Testing my telepathy," Vegeta replied lightly, and followed Goten to the stream.

-:-

Satan City~

Gohan leaned back in his overstuffed recliner, already looking forward to his first two-day weekend off for the first time in years. Kami bless you, Ms. Fan, he thought of his assistant.

As Pan was taking a nap, the quiet was equally welcome.

Videl entered their spacious salon with a mug of tea for each, smiling at his casual sweats that matched his carefree expression.

"Thanks," Gohan bade as she handed him his tea, before taking a seat herself. He took a sip and grinned. "I sure don't envy Goten this week," he commented cheerfully.

"Hm," Videl mumbled noncommittally into her own cup, in what he called her Swiss-neutrality voice.

"From what Goten hinted, it's probably a sneaky way to make Vegeta take a break," Gohan reflected.

"I don't doubt that," Videl replied, "But it's not the impression I was given."

Gohan looked up, drawing a blank. "What do you mean?"

Videl bit her lip, having been taught that gossip was a repulsive character fault. She was speaking to her own husband, but still. "I probably shouldn't repeat it," she confided, ambivalent.

Gohan frowned, having noticed her distracted concern since the day they'd left Capsule Corp. "Okay, what's going on?"

Videl glanced up at his no-nonsense voice and sighed. "Bulma told me they haven't been a real couple anymore for years," she reluctantly began, "She thinks there's something going on with Vegeta and Goten, if you see what I mean. I tried to tell her it was a silly thought, but I watched them after that, and…" She shook her head. "It was nothing specific, you know? But I saw what she meant. The looks, the way they talk, the vibes… I hate to admit it, but I don't like it, either." She set her cup aside, fidgeting, then cast Gohan a sharp look. "You didn't hear that, got it?"

Gohan had been staring incredulously at her, agape. "Videl, that's a serious accusation!" he exclaimed, alarmed.

"That's why I'm being the three monkeys," she told him flatly, "And there's no way in hell I'm mentioning it to your mother." She crossed her feet stubbornly, still disbelieving her own repeated words.

"Nope. Me, neither." But Gohan shook his head, unable to believe it. "I don't think we ought to say anything at all. There's no proof," he affirmed, to his brother's defense as always.

"Well, Goten said a little too much to Pan," Videl recalled, "About her being 'my revenge on him'?"

Gohan's expression slowly changed as the significance sunk in. For a time when Goten had been small, he'd seen Videl as an evil witch who was taking his brother from him, as most small children would. Of course, it became a family joke, prematurely returned by the younger Son brother. "Holy Freudian slip," Gohan muttered, rubbing a hand vigorously through his short hair.

Videl nodded grimly. "What should we do? It's damned if we do, damned if we don't."

The couple exchanged a wary glance, agreeing in unison, "Three monkeys."

-:-

**_Serenity?_ **

Night had fallen over the sakura place, covering it with its starry, indigo blanket. The almost-full moon penetrated the mist surrounding the haven, shining through the pink-spangled tree overhead to create a mysterious, purplish glow.

Vegeta had adopted it, Goten proudly noticed. Like now, from the West side of the tree, he was often peacefully quiet for a long time.

They watched the loose petals floating down, lit by the moon's pearly glow like pink fireflies in comfortable silence.

It was well after midnight, Goten noticed, the moon having reached its zenith. "We should be setting up camp," he reminded Vegeta.

The latter nodded, watching to see Goten's idea of camp. The latter pulled a folded blue tent from the root hollow, which he'd ingeniously accommodated for the back compartment to hermetically cover the tree root cache. The small compartment in the back kept their closed food stock safe.

Next, he took two matching sleeping bags from their impermeable sacs, which he zipped together before laying it out inside the tent, careful to avoid the tree roots.

When the lot was set up, they arranged several fallen tree branches within a circle of rocks they'd set up near the tent's entrance. Goten lit a fire to the wood with a small ki blast. "The lazy way," he admitted with a grin.

Vegeta sat down on a log before the fire, as Goten set a pot of water on to boil. It was still a bit chilly at night, and he rubbed his hands near the fire at its pleasant warmth as a sweet smell filled the air. After a few minutes, Goten sat next to him, pouring them each a thermal cup of hot chocolate, which they sipped at leisure.

"The cure for an incorrigible sweet tooth," Goten teased, a quirk he'd long ago found amusing in the other Saiyan.

"Not the only cure," Vegeta returned, with a smirk at making him blush.

"I'll let you imagine that one, 'til you have to take it," Goten challenged.

"I'll take it," Vegeta gladly accepted, but his elan was cut short by an unexpected yawn.

Goten shook his head, and tugged at his sweatshirt. "C'mon, you're making me sleepy just looking at you."

He put away their quickly emptied cups, and they cleared away the various objects strewn on the ground before entering the tent. Goten turned on a small, battery-powered lamp to put the lot away, and arranged their sleeping bag.

Vegeta glanced at a packet that had fallen out of the first aid kit, which contained an arm splint. "Someone's idea of a joke," he muttered sarcastically.

Goten took the packet from him, and quickly stuffed it into his own backpack. "It probably came with the kit," he reasoned, but mentally cursed it for darkening Vegeta's mood after a long-sought, nice day.

Not about to let anything spoil their escapade, Goten sat down on the cushioned sleeping bag, and patted Vegeta's side. He paused, thinking it best to clear it up first. "What exactly happened?" he asked carefully.

Vegeta's gaze didn't waver. "The broken arm didn't happen like you seem to think." Seeing that Goten was quietly listening, he continued, "I fell asleep in her room afterward, had a vivid nightmare, and mistook her for the enemy in my dream. No matter what I said later, all she ever did was throw it in my face."

Goten frowned, not knowing what to think. That was certainly not an appropriate joke, sarcastic or otherwise, if it were one. "But that was an accident long ago, right?"

"When Bra was conceived, and the last time ever," Vegeta confirmed matter-of-factly.

Goten shook his head, disheartened. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was that bad."

Vegeta stoically looked away. "It's only a matter of time before you see it the same way."

"That's not true!" Goten retorted, "Is that really what you think of me?"

"Would I be here otherwise?" Vegeta replied coolly.

All the years Goten had been torn between hatred and the fact that he still cared for his aunt, now waged a hurricane war within him. He'd always been able to forgive, but that was not a question to ask himself just then.

He hesitated before asking, "When you can't sleep, do you think about battles you've been in? Maybe that's the problem."

"It's what we're made for," Vegeta replied impatiently, "A good percent of my life's been spent doing it, so that's normal." Though he didn't sound as gung-ho as he had in years past.

Goten thought for a moment, confused. Vegeta was constantly contradicting himself, one moment glorifying combat, condemning it the next. In some ways, he'd evolved in the way maturity could be seen in Saiyans; in other ways, he'd remained frozen, as though a great part of him were no older than Goten.

"Yeah, but you've been through some things I wouldn't wish on anyone." Needless to mention what he certainly hadn't spoken of.

"Earthlings' characters aren't built for it," Vegeta commented in a lofty, resigned tone.

Goten scowled, shielding his offense at the random stab. He was being contradictory again, his words sounding automatic rather than thought out. Testing his own idea, Goten only replied, "I hope it doesn't stop me from progressing like you."

"You don't want to end up like me," Vegeta told him dryly, but hesitated. "Why the strange questions?"

"Just trying to see why you can't sleep," Goten explained, "And I certainly don't wanna be like me."

"Why?"

"I remember what it was like when I thought I I had no more reason to live… like you said, every reason I had was gone, just like that. I would've self-destructed soon enough. One word from you, and I still would," Goten affirmed dully.

"Cut it out!" Vegeta snapped, making Goten see that he'd put his foot in his mouth.

"Sorry." He backed down, and hesitated before changing the subject. "Did my uncle Raditz look like any of us?"

Vegeta cast him a sharp glance, but decided Gohan must be the origin of the question. "No, very different. Like a permanent Level Three, in normal form."

Goten nodded, and wondered aloud, "Do you think he would have changed for the better on Earth, like you?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Commit a few genocides, and you're branded for life."

"Not to me." Goten smiled shyly and inched closer, placing one hand on his.

Maybe it was the memories he'd inadvertently awakened, or the way his longish hair fell to one side, but Vegeta slid his arm around his waist, and pulled him near for an unexpected kiss.

Relieved to sense the tension dissipating, Goten leaned into his embrace for an idle makeout.

Noticing that his side of their joined sleeping bags was new, it was clear that Goten had planned this excursion for quite some time. Smiling, he slid them into it to hold Goten as the small spoon.

Though Goten had hoped this to be the night for which he'd waited for so long, it was not the best timing. As much as Vegeta had intentionally worked him up all day, he'd clearly had the same vision. However, they had at least all week to favor quality over quantity.

Though they hadn't gone all the way yet, they acknowledged their need for mutual release, and had found what they'd agreed to be an acceptable compromise.

"You're the one who won't be able to sleep," Vegeta lightly warned him.

"Nah, I'll have good dreams," Goten assured him. He paused, remembering his purpose. "Sit up and turn around." He reached back into his bag and took out his hairbrush.

"What for?" Vegeta asked, but complied curiously as Goten sat behind him, inspecting the inevitable tangles in his hair.

"It helps to sleep," Goten explained, "I thought it was just me, but I saw on the internet it's really a thing."

"It must be true, then," Vegeta replied dryly, but paused at Goten's slow, gentle brush and finger strokes through his thick, flamelike hair. It sent pleasant shivers throughout his scalp and back, which was oddly calming. He'd never noticed that effect before.

"I know, it seems weird," he admitted, "There are lots of other things that help, too. I'll show you sometime." For several minutes, his fingers followed the delicate passages of the brush, painlessly loosening the tangles throughout his surprisingly silken hair, which he liked playing with. "When I brush it down, it pops right back up," he told him amusedly.

"Hn." Vegeta's eyes were closed, as he'd discovered a new kind of bliss. He did not want the sensations to end, wondering if there were something enchanting in the demi Saiyan's touch.

"You like that?" Goten asked in his sensually subdued voice he reserved for Vegeta.

"I don't know yet," the latter teased sleepily, a faint smile gracing his serene face as he watched the crackling embers outside.

Satisfied, Goten deliberately slowed his brush strokes, as the other Saiyan's hair had become much smoother. The chirp of crickets and cicadas, with the occasional distant calls of owls and other night birds made a perfect background.

Seeing his eyes closed after several minutes, Goten resumed, carefully worked out a few more knots, until the brush glided smoothly through his ebony hair. Satisfied to see that he was already dozing off, Goten reclined him and covered him as he finished, only tracing his fingers through his soft locks. He himself was calm and relaxed as well, now aware of his heavy eyelids.

"Thanks," Vegeta mumbled as he accepted Goten's light embrace under the covers, pleasantly surprised by the unusual calm. No crazy, racing thoughts, just peace.

"Anytime," Goten replied, glad to see Vegeta already half asleep. He switched off the lamp to join him, watching the last of the campfire embers flicker out to signal the day's end and a night of serenity, the first they'd experienced in a long time.

-:-

**_Wednesday~_ **

Over the years, despite his disapproval of his neglected training, Piccolo had remained Gohan's respected confidant. When the eldest demi Saiyan ventured out to the desert to see him, the Kami-fusioned Namek knew that it was a serious matter.

"The women of this planet tend to worry too much when they become wives," Piccolo had stubbornly blown it off at first, but changed his mind when Gohan voiced his concern for his younger brother.

"That's what I thought, too, at first," his pupil had confided humbly, "I'm sorry to bother you here, Piccolo-san, but I need some objectivity."

Piccolo removed his cap to rub his head in thought, considering his student. Self-reliance had been the first skill he'd taught him, yet an old vision of gifting his small, unconscient form with his first sword and armor vividly returned. "Understood, Gohan. I'll see what I can do."

Relief flooded Gohan's face. "Thank you, Piccolo-san. I really appreciate it." He bowed and flew away, sure to be at work on time, with the hope of hearing that his concern was for naught.

-:-

As Gohan had reported, on the first two days, Piccolo had not been able to locate neither Goten's nor Vegeta's ki. Indeed, they obviously did not wish to be disturbed, but it was odd considering the possibility of an emergency.

Yet he was persistent, and on the following day, he managed to find them both near a lake that was a considerable distance from their unknown hideout.

Using a tactic that was unique to his Kami side, his form and ki were perfectly concealed behind the rocky ledge of a small foothill.

The sight of the Saiyan prince voluntarily seated behind an idle fishing pole with Goten was odd enough in itself, not to mention their familiar, relaxed demeanor.

The first few boring hours were uneventful, but the Namek's intuition to be patient proved to be more fruitful.

"I know phone games kinda suck, but here's one you might like," Piccolo's sharp ears heard Goten telling Vegeta as he passed him the said device.

Vegeta accepted it, critically inspecting the screen for an instant before changing programs. "No, this one."

"Doodle Jump?" Goten asked doubtfully over his shoulder.

"At least I can do something with it," Vegeta replied stubbornly, "Who cares about graphics, when all they do is tell you what to do, and you actually do nothing?"

"Well, okay," Goten conceded with a smirk, and they played their respective games, with an occasional glance at their fishing poles.

From his vantage point, Piccolo watched in confusion, wondering what Goten had done to him. Basically, from what he could tell, he'd convinced him to take a break. While he agreed with the general consensus that Vegeta needed one, he did not find the overtly familiar way Goten addressed him to be appropriate.

"Not so good this time, 'Geta," Goten commented playfully at hearing Doodle lose his virtual life.

Vegeta tossed the device aside. "Because my reflexes are shot to hell," he replied dully.

"They can't be as bad as mine were," Goten encouraged, "And you helped me get them back. Why won't you let me help you now?"

Vegeta shot him a stern glance. "How many times do I have to tell you? Nobody 'helps' me train."

"I just meant it could go faster with a partner," Goten back-pedalled hastily, but his voice trailed off with a hint of reproach, "I thought I was your equal now."

Vegeta sighed impatiently. "Don't start with that again. How do you think it makes you less equal?"

Piccolo froze at that point in their discourse, beginning to understand what Gohan meant.

"It's what I know people would say," Goten muttered, self-conscious about sounding so insecure.

"If you really cared about that, we wouldn't be here now, would we?" Vegeta pointed out.

"I guess not." Goten fidgeted with his sneakers, drawing random patterns in the sand.

Vegeta shook his head. "Idiot," he scoffed, but draped an arm around his waist.

Goten smiled, and leaned against the only person capable of reassuring him by calling him an idiot.

At his safe distance, Piccolo watched grimly as the two of them spoke, too low to be heard exactly, but of trivial, carefree matters. Perhaps what he'd witnessed actually meant nothing, he told himself, but words and gestures taken out of context.

_Right._

At that moment, the two Saiyans paused in a silent look of meaning, and slowly leaned close. Their lips had barely touched when they were distracted.

"Looks like you got a bite," Goten pointed out encouragingly.

"So far, all I've 'caught' was an old shoe and a seaweed snag," Vegeta replied dryly, then firmly cupped his hand behind Goten's head. The latter gladly leaned close for a soft kiss, forgetting their poles.

"Hey!" Vegeta exclaimed suddenly as his fishing pole was dragged into the water. He ran after it, knee-deep into the lake to make a grab for it, but his prey on the other end was faster, and the pole disappeared underwater. Cursing, he dove after it, while Goten collapsed onto the sand in peals of laughter.

Moments later, a soaking wet Vegeta appeared, crossly carrying his now empty pole. "I can't believe the fucker escaped!" he declared angrily, "It was this big…" He measured about two feet with his hands. "The same kind we had yesterday."

"A c-catfish!" Goten reminded him, still laughing hysterically. "But I never saw one that big… ouch!" He clutched his aching sides.

Vegeta glared at him through narrowed eyes. "What's so funny?"

Goten caught his breath long enough to bet, "When you're done telling everyone about it, it'll be Moby Dick!"

"You don't believe me?" Vegeta demanded indignantly, causing Goten another laughing fit as he shook his head.

"I'm glad to hear you can do better, smartass, because we have nothing to eat yet." Vegeta's voice had suddenly calmed, before he lifted Goten off the sand, then tossed him into the middle of the lake.

"Hey!" Goten spluttered, flailing to tread water, "It's cold!"

"Bring bigger ones, so we don't have to cook as many," Vegeta called, smirking, "And if you find the one I lost, bring it back."

Goten pushed back his plastered hair, muttering curses before he dove underwater.

Despite the harrowing circumstances, Piccolo could not resist an entertained smirk from afar.

A few minutes later, Goten re-emerged with two fishes their own size. "Okay, fair enough," he acknowledged, not one to hold a grudge for so little.

"Not bad," Vegeta congratulated him.

Goten grinned. "No problem. Ready?"

Piccolo ducked into a tight crevice as they flew off, knowing it to be useless trying to find where they were going, and especially too risky.

When they'd gone, he sighed heavily. A bead of sweat had formed on his brow, not from any risk of being seen, but his current dilemma. Goten was in no danger, he rebounded his own thought, but frowned. That was not the question. As little tolerance as he had for diplomacy as for nonsense, what would he say to Gohan?

A new problem had appeared as well. Though he owed his old pupil the truth, it would cause Goten more trouble than the former seemed to realize. The latter would only turn seventeen in the summer, Gohan had confirmed, which was obviously the reason for their secrecy. This was not a clear-cut, black and white situation.

Laws, he remembered, were not something the Saiyan prince concerned himself with, but he obviously cared for the demi Saiyan. Gohan would certainly not do anything to add to their problems, and from what Goku had told him, Goten had gone through something terrible. Though now, it was Vegeta who had some serious difficulties.

He would let him know if or when he found what was going on, Piccolo had promised Gohan; then again, there was a lot he did not know, and partial knowledge did more harm than good. The wisest option at this point was to wait, he decided as he flew off back toward the desert. And to think.

-:-

After the first few days at the sakura place, Vegeta was happier than he'd ever seen him, Goten was elated to note. So was he, and neither wished to leave. He was glad that they hadn't decided when to return, as he would already be dreading it.

A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was too good to be true, but he refused to acknowledge it. They could come back here anytime, he affirmed, both to himself and to Vegeta.

They could not live in Hakuna Matata paradise forever, and the prince had no more throne to reclaim. But they had the right to be happy, didn't they?

As the native Saiyan had promised, he hadn't taken a single pill, and like Goten, he slept easily and well. Whether it was due to the latter's new rituals, sleeping together and carefree, the general peace of their getaway, or all of that, it was so.

He supposed that it was unrealistic to expect Vegeta to entirely refrain from training during their improvised vacation, but since he didn't overdo it, he didn't complain. He put in a few hours himself. After all, it wouldn't do to let himself become rusty. Even though it still consterned him that Vegeta persisted in only training alone, that was the way he was. Things would surely return to normal once the phase had passed.

The moon was becoming brighter as it waxed through its full week, rendering the place even more mysterious-looking at night.

"Do you believe what you said the other night?" Vegeta asked out of the blue, "That some part of us is better than what we actually are?"

Goten tilted his head in thought. "I meant our potential, in a good way," he explained. Decidedly, he would have to be more concise.

Both were quiet as they sat before their nightly campfire, where the billowy, cloying smoke of cedar wood kept insects away. Goten stoked the crackling embers beneath the small flames which would burn out on their own, and lifted the tent's entry flap invitingly.

Vegeta was fine with an early night, as the day had been far from lazy, and slipped gladly under the covers in the sleeping bag, and in Goten's arms. It was just where he wanted to be.

At first, the demi Saiyan was content to remain thus, while waiting for some hypothetical time when they would not have to sneak to do so. He was quite aware of the privilege he never thought he would ever have from Vegeta, and would not screw it up. But the other Saiyan's words, which contradicted the wishes of his face and body, made lust burn through his blood, and upgrade their makeout from casual to heated.

On one hand, it would be so easy and natural to take him right now, Vegeta thought; on the other, he still felt the innocent, spontaneous kiss of a naive thirteen year old, which he kept in the safest corners of his mind. Where the two thoughts overlapped was as exciting as it was uncomfortable.

Sensing his hesitation, Goten told him, "I guess we're both pretty sleepy, huh?"

"I get it when I can," Vegeta replied dryly, but stayed in the comfortable position he'd found in his initial embrace.

Knowing that each had his own idea of what 'it' was, Goten smiled, seeing his eyes already heavily closed. It was the first time he'd seen Vegeta go to sleep so quickly, which he decided was a good thing. They would stay until he was properly rested, Goten decided, and that, as long as it took.

Goten was awakened in the middle of the night by his partner's disturbed ki, taking a moment to focus in the dimly moonlit darkness to realize what was happening.

Vegeta tossed his head back and forth a couple of times before he sat up with a sharp, shuddering inhale. His breathing was heavy and ragged as though he'd been running, and his limbs trembled. He stared with wide eyes and shrunken pupils into the darkness at whatever terrible visions remained, clasping his knees in an effort to steady himself.

"Vegeta?" Goten asked carefully to steel his alarm, realizing the sort of nightmare it most likely was.

The former did not seem to hear him, stuck in the hellish world of his dream, perhaps a memory.

"It's over now," he tried again, not knowing the absurdity of his words to such a witness. "Vegeta?" He shook his arm.

Vegeta flinched at the well-meaning touch, wildly turning to see not Goten, but some horror in his mind's eye.

Violently he knocked Goten away from him, instinctively rolling out of the tent at a quiet noise outside. Without warning, he sent a deadly ki blast to the direction of the noise, causing a small group of terrified foxes to scamper to safety, just in time.

"It's okay, guys," Goten furtively called after them, but they'd fled back into the forest.

He waited grimly as Vegeta crouched to the ground, trying without much success to get a grip. Goten did not approach him now, but waited with the hope that he would snap out of it, at a loss of what to do.

Slowly, at least partial realization came back to the full-blooded Saiyan of where he was and with whom, which was alas of little solace to him.

Goten followed warily as he re-entered the tent and hastily turned on the lamp, his relief short-lived as he watched him rifle through his backpack to withdraw the bottle of pills. Grimly, he waited for him to dry-swallow a small, guessed handful.

"They'll kick in soon," Goten encouraged hesitantly, "I'll wait with you, okay?" He pulled back the covers and patted his side of the sleeping bag.

Vegeta's fingers trembled as he tried to close the bottle, but spilled the pills all over the canvas floor. He turned on Goten, yelling angrily, "Leave me alone! All of you… just leave me the fuck alone!"

'All of you?' It wasn't exactly anger in his voice, Goten realized, but watched, stunned despite having been warned, as Vegeta grabbed his hooded sweatshirt, then left, either forgetting or not caring about his shoes. It was more akin to horror that he'd seen in his face.

"Vegeta, wait!" Goten called after him, but he'd already vanished into dense forest. He knew better than to follow him, at least not yet. Still, he knelt to stare at the open tent flap, wondering what he should have done. There was surely something.

To occupy his mind, he gathered the spilt pills, biting his lip as he put them back in the bottle. A lump had risen in his throat, and tears stung his eyes, which he refused to let fall. He had no idea of what it would take to get him to talk to him. Sure, he knew who he was dealing with, but should he not be an exception to him? Couldn't he see that he understood, as his future mate of the same general bloodline? He did not expect him to speak at the time, and was not judging him.

Goten stared at the orange bottle, remembering his promise to never take another. The day he'd almost taken his own life, albeit accidentally, came back to him in vivid, unwanted detail. Not as much the events in themselves, but the cold, heavy, foreboding sense of despair that had seemed to permeate his bones. It had been cold. Not in the sense of temperature, as he could not even feel the chilly air since the fire had gone out. Another kind of cold, which he'd hoped to forget. Was it the same sort of cold that Vegeta felt all the time, to the point of being unaware of it? The circumstances were a far cry from being alike, but he was sure he could help Vegeta. If only he would let him try.

All he knew right then was that he could never sleep alone thus, knowing Vegeta was Kami only knew where, and in what state. Without thinking, he shook out what he knew to be a sufficient dose after a long period of abstinence, and took a fresh bottle of water. It was difficult making them go down his tightened throat, and he choked twice trying.

Still, it was not enough. From his small toiletry case in his backpack, he took out a cheap disposable razor of no legitimate use for most Saiyans, except that it caused less scarring than other sharp objects. He pried out the single blade, pushed back his left wristband, and mindfully sliced deliberate lines into the skin of his wrist to form the kanji for 'three'. 三 He repeated the pattern to make nine cuts, with a final underline of 'one'. 一 Ten lines, of course, evoking hell rather than heaven as he watched the rivelets of blood drip down until they slowly dried into ugly streaks.

The teasing sting of pain that accompanied the sight brought him a paradoxical satisfaction, heightened by the wrapped alcohol swipes as he cleaned up the mess. When the pills kicked in, the combined giddy numbness gave him his true fix.

Efficiently bandaging his wrist, he replaced his wristband and put away the items before crawling wearily to bed. Vegeta did not know about his cathartic stress reliever, and he would keep it that way.

Sleep brings counsel, as he'd always heard. He knew that was complete BS, but thinking in such a weary state was not possible.

He slid under the covers, trying not to look at the now empty side. The only thought he could manage was a silent plea, hoping Vegeta and whatever gods who looked on would hear: _Please be okay._

-:-

**_For fox sake~_ **

After turning restlessly for what seemed like all night, Goten drifted off to a restless hour's nap that left him more tired and ill-humored than if he hadn't bothered. Not as much time had passed as he'd thought, as it was still night when he opened his eyes and gave up, staring mindlessly at the canvas wall.

The late chirp of night birds and insects now seemed to be mocking him, reminding him of the time when he'd taken the damn pills to begin with. If he took another, it would not be the last, and he did not want to go back to the way he'd been at that time. He'd sworn to himself that if it ever got that bad again, he would pull the plug, knowing now that it would be final.

Vegeta had said to leave him alone, and he had, but enough was enough. From what he understood, it was nothing new, and he was reminded of the blizzard incident a few years back. It was sufficient to make him sit up and pull his sweatshirt and sneakers back on, then simply follow his ki.

It was quiet and subdued now, suggesting that he'd gone to sleep. He walked a long, seemingly random distance to another part of the forest he recognized.

Not knowing what to expect, he was nevertheless relieved to find Vegeta asleep under a large walnut tree, curled up on his side. At least he'd thought to put his sweatshirt on, with the hood pulled over his eyes to block the eventual sunlight.

Goten approached quietly, and paused with a faint smile despite himself to see a rusty-colored ball of fur curled up behind his knees. It lifted its head in recognition, placing one paw on Vegeta's leg.

 _/Good job, Kits,/_ he thought, knowing that it heard him. It rested its head again, watching to see what happened.

Goten sat down quietly beside Vegeta, deciding not to disturb him. Though at sensing his presence, the other Saiyan pushed back his hood, and his eyes opened groggily.

Neither spoke. Goten reclined on one elbow, and the other Saiyan only reclosed his eyes halfway. Pacified, Goten took his place beside him. He decided to stay where they were, but Vegeta did not seem to be keen on sleep, looking thoughtfully into the distance.

"Everything okay?" Goten ventured.

The former nodded as though nothing had happened. "What creature is that?" he asked, noticing the furball behind his knees. It looked at him with calm, intelligent eyes, as though watching over him.

"A fox," Goten explained, "His name is Kitsune. Just a friend who stops by sometimes." He reached down to pet it and it nuzzled his hand, partially exposing its white belly. Its mouth stayed opened like a comical smile.

Vegeta watched the fox curiously. It was the same type of creature that had fled earlier that night. It looked partly canine and partly feline, but was clearly not a domestic animal. "Most of your friends are animals, aren't they?" he observed.

Goten nodded. "You'd like them if you got to know them. They never judge you like people do."

Vegeta considered him and the fox, who yawned before kneading its paws like a cat behind his knees. "You must have lots of pets out here," he commented.

"They're not really pets," Goten replied, "Want to see the others?"

"How many are there?" Vegeta asked.

"Most of them are probably hunting. We'll see." Goten made a strange calling noise, that sounded like a soft /ki-ki-ki./

In a few minutes, another fox, then three more, joined them, first peeking warily out of the brush to see who the other presence was. Noticing that Vegeta was with Goten and the other member of their family, they padded over to them.

Goten petted each of them, and casually introduced Vegeta. "Pet 'em," Goten encouraged, "They won't bite."

Vegeta complied to satisfy him, surprised to see them all recline in a pile around them, like miniature guards. A small one climbed onto Goten's shoulder. It was fascinated by Vegeta's flame-shaped hair, and spatted at it with its paw.

"What's it doing?" Vegeta asked flatly. Ordinarily he would have been annoyed, but only sounded weary.

"He wants to play," Goten explained. He watched as it sniffed Vegeta's nose, then layed beside him and began to lick the back of his hand. "Guess he likes you."

The rest of them settled down in a group by their legs and feet, deciding to take a nap. The kit flopped down where it was.

"They think we should sleep," Goten interpreted, noticing that Vegeta had already shut his eyes again. He did the same, satisfied for the time. He would find out what was going on, he was resolved. Every problem had a solution; why should this one be any exception?

 _/Don't you think so?/_ he silently asked Kitsune.

The latter fox opened its eyes to look at Goten, and blinked. It placed its paw over Vegeta's leg again as the two Saiyans settled in, gazing into the distance.

-:-

The day after he'd secretly observed Vegeta and Goten, Piccolo flew toward the familiar large mountain near the Sons' house to find Goku, not feeling any wiser than the day before. Another may well have questioned his sanity for believing his old rival, and Goten's own father, to be the only one with a clear enough head to be a good sounding board for his thoughts, but his intuition never failed him.

In the past, as Gohan's little brother, Piccolo would most likely have kicked Goten's ass to the wished-back moon, but he sensed that there was more to the story than met the eye. He also sensed that Goku played a larger part in the said story than he knew.

The latter's ki was much easier to locate, and he found him in a barren clearing near the mountains. Goku appeared to be training, but Piccolo landed a slight distance away, puzzled as he watched him ki-blast a long tunnel through the grass and dirt, then shake his head.

"How did he do that?" Goku muttered to himself, before turning around, looking embarrassed at the presence of a witness.

"Goku, what the hell are you doing?" Piccolo demanded, staring at several similarly blasted tunnels, and shielded his face from the dusty air.

"Hey, Piccolo," Goku greeted casually, "I'm trying out a new technique, and failing miserably. What brings you here?"

"What kind of technique?" Piccolo asked, he being the one to scratch his head.

"An easy way to cut grass," Goku replied, making the Namek decide that he didn't want to know. "Nothing's wrong, I hope?"

"I have the same question," Piccolo began grimly, "Concerning Goten's excursion with Vegeta."

"Don't tell me anything happened to them?" Goku asked, frowning.

"No, nothing of the sort," Piccolo replied impatiently, but fell silent. He'd been standing right next to Goku when Vegeta had told them the same bullshit story, and wondered if the Earth's savior was really as naive as everyone thought, or knew something he didn't.

"Gohan asked me the same thing," Goku informed him, "Why, when you both thought it was a good idea a few days ago?"

What he would say to Gohan was another matter, but Piccolo was in no mood to turn around the pot at the moment. "Goku, do you really approve of what I think you know all that's really about?" he leveled with him in a lowered voice.

Goku sighed defeatedly, sitting down on a large rock. "What am I supposed to do, Piccolo, make them both hate me?"

Piccolo's opened his mouth soundlessly, that being the last thing he expected to hear, then shut it, his eyes narrowed. "How long have you known?" he asked gravely, somehow suspecting that ChiChi did not.

"Long ago," Goku confirmed, "Before they did, I think."

"How long ago?" Piccolo demanded, not about to drop it after such a revelation, and wondering just what else Goku knew about, while he apathetically allowed everyone to believe him to be oblivious to it all.

"A few years," Goku admitted, guessing his thought, "I trained with them both all the time, and saw what they went through, because they both have heads like a brick wall. I don't expect you to understand."

"Hold on," Piccolo cut in abruptly, "Goten is your son, and my opinion doesn't matter. I just don't know what to say to Gohan, because he and his wife suspect what we know, that I wish I didn't."

"I see," Goku mumbled, as though to himself. To Piccolo, he confided, "I don't know how Gohan would react."

"Exactly, and there's something else," Piccolo added, consterned, "I understood Vegeta is having some sort of difficulty concerning his training. If it's bad enough for him to mention… Of course, he wants no help from Goten, or anyone else."

Goku frowned. "What kind of difficulty?"

"He mentioned reflexes," Piccolo replied. "… What?" he asked at Goku's sudden look of alarm.

"I hope it's not what I think, and they get back sooner than later." Goku clenched his fists in his lap.

Both looked up at the presence of a third ki, seeing Trunks awkwardly approach.

"Sorry I'm late," the demi Saiyan said to Goku, and greeted, "Hello, Piccolo-san. I hope I'm not interrupting? I could come back later."

"It's fine, I was about to leave," Piccolo replied, but a glance at Goku told him that they would speak again later.

The full-blooded Saiyan nodded his acknowledgment to Piccolo, and told Trunks with a grin, "I guess I'm hopeless." He indicated the random tunnels of his failed attempts, making the younger male snicker.

Piccolo looked on, puzzled. "You're teaching him to cut grass with ki?"

"Yes," Trunks replied with a demonstration, leaving a patch of neatly cut grass.

Piccolo only shook his head. "A sure sign that you have too much time on your hands," he commented before he took to flight, not for the first time thinking that Earth was the most bizarre planet he'd ever encountered.

The two Saiyans exchanged an embarrassed glance, then burst out laughing.

"I hope I didn't make Piccolo-san think you're insane," Trunks said to him apologetically, stifling another laugh. He quickly looked down, blushing.

"Eh, he's seen worse," Goku assured him, his thoughts on the irony of very awkward timing.

-:-

**_One of Those Days~_ **

Friday morning, Trunks awoke uncomfortably, without knowing why at first. Vague remnants of his dream, accompanied by a cold, wet stickiness beneath him, told the story.

In annoyed embarrassment, he pulled off the bottom sheet and dropped it aside to later put in the laundry himself, covering his head with his pillow. _I did not_ _just dream that!_ he mentally exclaimed, not ready to acknowledge the evidence to the contrary.

He'd planned on a few extra minutes to snooze, but that involved thinking about it. Frustrated, he reluctantly got up to bring his balled-up sheet to the washing machine, set the wash cycle, then hit the shower.

That helped somewhat, he acknowledged before getting dressed, and rubbed his hair dry.

"Trunks," his mother's stern voice called up the stairs, "Get down here. Now."

That tone of voice announced nothing holy, at least in his own regard, and he braced himself as he walked down into the kitchen.

"What?" Trunks asked at her angry glare, knowing that it was just going to be one of those days.

"I got a call from your tutor this morning," she began crisply, making him visibly cringe, "She said you've been skipping Thursday sessions, and don't deny it. You told me your schedule was changed - thanks for embarrassing me - and according to ChiChi, you told Goku the same thing, because you'd rather train with him. How nice to put him in such a bad spot. What gives?"

Trunks slumped, though his blood boiled with the thought of how triumphant the hauty woman had been to make such a call. "She hates my guts, and makes my life a living hell," he ranted back, "I don't even know why–"

"And you think that's how it works, you can just avoid a class every time you don't like a professor or a tutor," she cut him off accusingly, "You think you can get by in life like that? What kind of president will you make if you can't even handle a little diplomacy?"

"That's what it's really about," he muttered under his breath. Aloud, he shot back, "And Dad's pissed because my practice is cut short, so I can't win! Why don't you resolve your own fights, instead of using me as your pawn?"

"Don't change the subject!" her voice raised, "He's not here to answer that, because they're 'training'… yeah, that's it… This is about you, nobody else!"

Trunks threw his hands into the air. "Yes, it is! And Ms. Stick-Up-Her-Ass, who despises me when I never did anything to her! I'd gladly change for someone else - anyone else - but who cares, because there isn't another one!"

"I don't get it." Bulma stared at him in bewilderment. "You've always been a good student. Are you deliberately trying to screw it up?"

"No." Trunks stared back, the bewilderment being on him right then. "Running the company isn't what I wanted to do with my life, but then I don't know what else I'd do. I told you the problem, but nobody wants to hear it. Especially you."

She considered him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, Trunks. It's true you've never had any problems before. If your tutor is really the problem, we'll look into it. But for now, you're stuck with her. If it's 'yes, ma'am,' and 'no, ma'am,' then make her happy and just focus on your work. I know it sucks, but for now, that's the way it is. Next Thursday, you'll apologize and get back to work."

"But, Mom!" Trunks objected reproachfully, furiously indignant at the mere thought.

"No 'but's, just do it," she told him, unmoved.

He thought for a moment, seeing the argument to be futile, but nodded, with plans of his own. "Fine," he acquiescenced, to her face.

"That's better. And if you don't, I'll hear about it," she left as a last warning.

"I said alright," Trunks repeated firmly, in no mood to hear any more. But he hesitated, rewinding the conversation. "Wait. What did you mean about Dad and Goten's training? Is something wrong?"

Bulma only rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Oh, just wait for that. I'm sure you'll be really happy to hear it one of these days."

He frowned at the memory. "It's true you don't know what happened with Goten. He had some pretty serious problems he wasn't proud of, so don't be too hard on him."

Bulma shook her head. "I think you've been around Goku too long, because it's rubbing off."

He shifted his feet uncomfortably. "I gotta go," he said quickly, "I'll be late." He glanced at the clock and grabbed his bag, hurrying out the door before anything else could be said.

Once outside, the cool air on his face reminded him of his purpose. A few Friday classes would pass quickly and easily. His real work was to take place in the computer lab. While the school's computers were equipped with the best anti-virus, anti-theft, and anti-spyware, they were a piece of cake for him to crack. While he had no ill intentions toward the school, there was some information he wanted, and right away. And that, he was determined to get.

-:-

Later that afternoon saw Trunks flying at full tilt toward the Sons' home. While on one hand it was the last place he felt comfortable going, on the other, the stack of papers in his hand was gold to him, and Goku was the only credible person to speak up for him. And something told him that Goku would.

He found the other Saiyan in the Sons' back yard at their small shed with a hammer in his hand, his tongue bitten in concentration as he proceeded to carefully hammer a nail in place.

Having set a few buckets on the floor to catch rain leaks, ChiChi had been asking him to fix some missing shingles for weeks, and he was finally doing so. Or trying, he corrected himself at watching the whole wall collapse.

"Hey, Goku-san," Trunks had begun, but cringed at the sight.

"Hi, Trunks," Goku returned the greeting, but slumped dejectedly. "I guess we can't be good at everything," he joked lightly, but his disappointment, not to mention dread of his wife's reaction, was clear in his face.

Trunks smiled despite himself. "How about a deal?" he proposed eagerly, "I can have that fixed in a few minutes, if you can help me out. What do you say?" He watched his face hopefully.

Goku brightened. "Sure thing!" he replied, his cheerfulness returning immediately.

"Great!" Trunks took his toolbox in hand. Indeed, after what looked to Goku like a blurr of tools flying, as their fighting skills appeared to others, the shed was as good as new.

"Wow… " Goku's eyes sparkled happily. "Thanks, buddy!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, "I'm not sure she'll believe I did that, but it'll save me a huge headache."

"Anytime." Trunks returned the grin, but set the toolbox down to hide his face.

"So, what do you need help with?" Goku asked, remembering his word as always.

Trunks' smile faded, but was quickly replaced by a devious triumph. "Remember I told you about my tutor who hates me?"

Goku nodded. "Yeah, I heard about that. What's it all about?"

"I'm sorry I lied about my schedule," Trunks began uncomfortably, "But she really hates me, and nobody believes me," Trunks confided, "But I swear, I never did anything to her. My grades are good, I've never been late, or talked bad to her, or anything. Gohan took it like a joke, Goten was like 'that's nice,' and my mom thought I skipped the class just to get out of it. Like, she says things to humiliate me in class, yells at me, gives me worse grades than I deserve, and gets me in trouble every chance she gets. She's a damn bitch," Trunks complained, though he hadn't meant to.

"Hm." Goku thought about it. "Maybe she's jealous of you."

"I wondered about that," he continued, "I wondered lots of things. Yesterday I was thinking, who is she to hate me for nothing, and I decided to find out. So I cracked a few databases and did a background check on her, and guess what? It turns out she's a former Capsule Corp employee, and was fired and sent to prison about ten years ago for embezzlement. She got out earlier for 'good behavior.' Now she goes by a fake name. I wonder how she was able to get any job at all, or what she might be planning."

Goku stared at him, his regard darkening. "You're right, Trunks, that's a serious crime. She has no business teaching. I'm sure your mother will see now. If not, I'll have a word with her. Also with this woman."

"Thanks," Trunks replied nervously, but his face turned angry. "I want payback for that. I can easily get her fired, or better, use it as blackmail. Then she'll have a good reason to hate me." He smirked at the thought.

Seeing his father's reflection in his anger, Goku admonished, "Nah, don't sink down to her level. Once the school finds out, she'll lose her job. Then they'll have to find your class a good tutor, who'll do their job right."

"You think so?" Trunks looked up at his face, reassured. "I'll show my mom when I get home. She'll have to believe me now."

Goku nodded confidently. "That's the best way. You want me to go with you, so she sees it's serious?"

He looked up into Goku's honest, caring eyes, and quickly back down at feeling his cheeks burn again.

"Uhm… I… " Trunks began, but lost his train of thought.

"No need to be embarrassed," Goku assured him, "I'll help you any way I can."

"Well, I… actually, I just needed some advice," Trunks faltered, "I bet ChiChi-san will be happy to see the shed's fixed."

"It'll be a surprise," Goku told him, "C'mon, I'll go back with you."

Though Trunks would have ordinarily taken offense at someone inferring that he needed help, Trunks found himself nodding.

"Back later, ChiChi," Goku called into the house, and before she could reply, he placed a hand on Trunks' back, and two fingers to his forehead. In the space of a blink, the two of them found themselves in the CC living room.

At their sudden presence, Bulma nearly jumped out of her skin. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed, one hand on her heart.

"Heh… sorry, Bulma," Goku replied sheepishly, as he often forgot the effect his sudden appearances had on others.

"Well, I did my homework," Trunks announced, "I think you'll find it interesting." He triumphantly handed his mother the stack of printed papers, before Goku cast him a proud smile.

Bulma accepted the papers, first questioningly, then looked doubtful as she began to read. Though when she turned the page to see the complete police report, her mouth dropped open.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening incredulously, "I remember this case! Dad!" she called into the lab.

Having overhead, Dr. Briefs joined them, and read over her shoulder. "Oh, dear." He wiped his glasses with a heavy sigh. "Indeed, the company suffered a terrible budget cut after that, and several employees left. Not to mention the scandal. That's a very disturbed young woman."

"You mean batshit crazy," Bulma added, paling as she stared at Trunks, "In court, she swore she'd get revenge, so who knows what she's planning." She paused. "How did you find all this information?"

Trunks shrugged. "Kind of intuition, and I kind of breached national security to find it."

"It sounds like national security's at risk," Goku added, looking considerably more alarmed at hearing the story confirmed.

Bulma slapped the papers onto a bookshelf in agreement. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. First thing Monday morning, we're going to see your principal," she told Trunks, "After a trip to the police station."

"Unfortunately, I don't think the police can do much," Dr. Briefs told her, "Her prison sentence is over, and she hasn't at least been caught committing a new crime."

"Just identity fraud," Bulma retorted dryly, "And I don't mean the local boys in blue. I'm willing to bet my life the feds will dig up something. Even if not, I don't want that crazy broad around my kid. I'm sure the other parents won't, either."

"I can see her drama already," Trunks added sarcastically, "She 'did a dumb thing when she was young, now she's mature, and used a new name to make a fresh start.'" He imitated playing a violin. "And she is a drama queen. I can imagine the skeletons in her closet."

"Do you think she still wants revenge on the company?" Goku asked, thinking.

"Probably," Dr. Briefs reasoned, also deep in thought, "Why else would she hate a good student when the school knows who he is?"

Trunks had become quiet. As triumphant as he'd been about his discovery, which meant getting rid of a thorn in his side, the gravity of the situation was beyond his expectations. He began to worry for his family, as well as for the company's personnel.

Bulma glanced at her father. "We need to inform security, and call a meeting."

The elder scientist nodded, already on his way out through the connecting lab.

With similar thoughts, Goku's expression darkened again. "I'd like to speak to this woman on Monday, if you don't mind." He was merely being polite, not asking.

"Of course. Thanks, Goku," his old friend replied, but glanced uneasily at present company, each with the same thought. _What the hell?_

-:-

In the days that followed, the times seemed to pass without further incident.

Since, Kitsune returned every night to lightly sleep just outside their tent.

"Does your fox sleep here often?" Vegeta inquired one evening, watching him wash his paws by the fire.

"He kinda does what he wants," Goten shrugged off, "I think he wants to get to know you." He looked around and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"A little," Vegeta replied, remembering that they'd run out of snacks.

"I'll find something," Goten told him casually, "Back in a minute."

Vegeta nodded as he left, turning his attention to the mysterious fox. "What about you?" he asked it, now feeling a little less foolish talking to an animal, "I think there's more chicken left."

He ducked into the tent, returning with what was left from the roasts which Goten had picked up in the relatively nearest town, and began to shred the rest of the meat, skin, and cartilage. "I wonder how you get by out here without someone to de-bone your hunts," he commented dryly, but the fox waited patiently.

He wiped his hands on a rag and set out the plate of scraps, and Kitsune wolfed them down. He licked his chops, and padded over to nuzzle his hand.

"I guess you can't be any worse than people," Vegeta acknowledged thoughtfully.

Kitsune tilted his head, then slipped inside the tent, looking back to see if he would follow him.

Vegeta peeked inside to see the creature sit by his side of the sleeping bag, then place its paw on it. "No, we aren't going to bed yet," he told it, misinterpreting the gesture.

Kitsune flicked his ears and responded with three sharp barks, again tapping the sleeping bag.

Vegeta knelt and studied the creature at length, this time he being the one to tilt his head. Goten communicates with it somehow, he reflected. Sometimes he spoke aloud, but had told him it worked by thought. The cats back at Capsule Corp appeared to know when they could come into his room. Perhaps the fox was similar.

Kitsune only blinked, waiting.

/Do you hear me?/ he tried by thought, feeling absurd.

But Kitsune sat up, watching him attentively.

Vegeta wondered at what seemed to worry the animal, his unwanted thoughts returning almost gladly.

He'd taken it as a good sign that he'd found sleep so quickly that night; what he'd forgotten was that when he entered a dream too abruptly, it resulted in nightmares. Always the same themes, that played out in distortion as though on a loop, and left him sickened.

He didn't want Goten to know at all what badly clashed with the image he had of himself.

Kitsune trotted over to his side and stared at him expectantly.

"What?" Vegeta demanded, irritated at him for bringing back his ugly thoughts.

Kitsune sat to face him and tilted his head again. /…wasn't your imagination,/ Vegeta was sure he heard, somehow.

/What wasn't my imagination?/ Vegeta asked, staring with astonishment at the rusty-colored animal.

Satisfied, the fox watched him intently. /Finally. I've been trying to tell you…/ But the rest seemed to fade out beneath his perception.

/Tell me what? I can't 'hear.'/ Vegeta had learned to communicate with countless other beings during his life - usually to formulate threats or demand information - and knew that the fox understood that.

/Keep trying./ Kitsune addressed him in an insistant, respectful tone that lacked any of the artifice used by people. He'd understood that Vegeta was Goten's consort, and the dominant of them. It was not a question of preference, rather his code of ethics regarding hierarchy. The messages were received as automatic concepts rather than pronounced words, with few exceptions, such as names. /… if we find the same note,/ he was explaining.

'Note' as in music, or rather frequency? Vegeta wondered, again wishing he had a scouter. It was obsolete by now, but he knew the system well.

/Yes, frequency. It's better to learn on your own./

/You can hear my thoughts?/ Vegeta demanded, scowling.

/Only relevant ones,/ Kitsune assured him, and it somehow made sense. /I think you found it./ His ears flicked back encouragingly.

Vegeta concentrated, and was certain that he picked up a sign of distress.

He frowned. /Are you in some sort of trouble?/

Kitsune glanced anxiously outside at an almost inaudible noise, then back at him. /What you saw in your dream./

Vegeta stared at the animal, then frowned. /I don't remember much of it,/ he explained, /But how does my past affect you?/

/It doesn't. You picked up the threat, and saw your own idea of it./

/What threat?/ Vegeta was properly confused, and secretly a bit freaked out.

Kitsune's fluffy tail curled around his paws. /Danger is a constant for us,/ he stated simply, and looked at the ground. /Our lives are risky./

/Like us,/ Vegeta reflected. /What was going on?/

/Some renegade wolves almost killed my son,/ Kitsune told him, /If you hadn't intervened, my wife could not have defended him./

/I didn't,/ Vegeta replied flatly, /It must have been a coincidence./

Kitsune knew that, both from Goten and what he could tell himself. /It doesn't matter. Thank you, anyway./

Vegeta nodded. /And the other foxes that came to us. They're your family?/

/Yeah. My wife, our son and daughter, and my wife's sister. They were scared of you at first, but they like you./ He could have sworn that the creature smiled.

/Wait. You said my dream happened because I picked up your threat?/ Vegeta asked in confusion.

/It seems. Some beings have that ability,/ Kitsune told him, /You and Goten are the only people we know./

/His father and brother are a lot like him,/ Vegeta added thoughtfully, /Maybe they do./

Now he was sure that Kitsune smiled. /I know. He told me all about his world./

/Well, what happened with the wolves?/ Vegeta inquired.

/Goten gave them what he called an attitude adjustment./ Kitsune delicately groomed one paw, until he was satisfied.

Vegeta laughed despite himself.

/He's the only reason why our predators leave us alone./ Kitsune lowered his head as though in thought. /I'm about ten years old now,/ he continued, /It's possible for a fox to live to about fourteen, but most of us only live for two, maybe four years. Many here think I'm immortal./

Vegeta laughed at the image, and he was sure that the fox grinned before he perched onto his lap.

"Guess I'm doomed to be surrounded by animals all my life, then," Vegeta sighed in resignation, leaning back against a pile of cushions.

Goten returned to their site quickly with a bag filled with diverse fruit. Not seeing Vegeta outside, he looked in and smiled. "Glad to see you get along," he commented cheerfully, knowing that no one would believe him if he told them.

Vegeta was startled, not having heard him approach. "What did you bring?" he asked, seeing the full bag.

"Not many kinds." Goten emptied the fruit onto a large tray, separating it by type. "Too bad it isn't berry season yet. We'll just have to come back when it is," he commented.

"Sure, just for that," Vegeta added, but already counted on it.

Kitsune leaned his head forward to sniff the new food, and Goten gave him a striped plum. Fruit was not his favorite, but he ate it.

"He'll be disappointed if you don't," Goten told him, grinning at the sight of a fox on the prince's lap.

"That's your pet, not mine." Vegeta helped himself to a few rare varieties.

"Eh, not sure about that." Goten took a plum himself and looked at Kitsune, then burst out laughing.

"Now what?"

Goten calmed for a second to quote, "'I will eat them in a box, I will eat them with a fox... '"

"Oh gods, no!" Vegeta covered his face. "Bra made me read her that stupid book every day for a year. Just, no."

Goten raised an eyebrow. "She made you."

"I can tell you don't have any kids," Vegeta commented dryly.

"I wasn't the brightest light in biology class, but I'm sure I can't do that," Goten told him with a shudder. "But we have foxes."

"Most people are happy with a cat or a dog," Vegeta declared.

/You do, you like me, Sam-I-Am./

Vegeta glared at Kitsune. /Shut up./

-:-

Their vacation resumed as it was intended, with enough fishing humor to later entertain their families. The irony of it taking something terrible for his senpai to learn to appreciate activities he'd considered to be a waste of time did not escape Goten's attention; perhaps it was a blessing in disguise.

His training actually improved when he took the time to rest, Vegeta grudgingly acknowledged. He was more calm and focused.

They'd decided to stay longer than planned, and joked that perhaps they should just move there and be done with it. Or maybe it wasn't such a joke, each thought to himself.

"They're all going to flip, wondering where we are," Vegeta predicted, not sounding too concerned about the matter.

"Probably," Goten agreed, curiously peeking at his phone messages for the first time since they'd left. "Yipe," he muttered before quickly shutting it off.

Vegeta shot him an amused smirk before sliding an arm around his waist. They sat peacefully beneath the cherry tree late that evening, watching the petals that had begun to fall.

"I wouldn't mind staying here," Vegeta commented aloud, his half-smile fading.

"Good, 'cause you're not going anywhere," Goten told him seductively, winding his arms around him. He kissed him the way he liked, beginning slowly and softly, which would gradually heat up. Vegeta had no idea how adorable he was, Goten thought as always. The way he simply allowed Goten to kiss him drove the demi Saiyan crazy. He liked that, Goten knew, and locked his fingers in his thick hair.

Indeed, it brought Vegeta a curious thrill. He watched Goten through slitted eyes, stroking the skin of his cheek, which had remained as firm, slightly plump, and soft as a baby's. Coupled with his innocent expression that clashed awkwardly with his feverish hormones, it worked for Goten somehow, which made Vegeta feel as though he were under a spell. It was not at all unpleasant, he thought at the warm flush that had crept under the skin of his whole being, and unconsciously pulled him closer.

His thumb lightly skimmed a bruise that had remained on his cheekbone from when he'd blindly struck him in his nightmare. Yet the demi Saiyan held no grudge, or sought to prove that he didn't. A few of the petals that floated down grazed the ends of his shaggy hair, and one stuck to it, as though it belonged to him. The sakura tree was a lot like Goten. At once in their ephemeral prime, an air of ineffable sadness lingered within them, rendering them an untouched, fragile sort of quality.

Goten paused quietly with a similar thought of Vegeta beneath the mysteriously moonlit glow. _Kintsukuroi,_ he recalled the term. Broken works of art were repaired with gold or silver, and considered to be even more beautiful having been broken. He wanted to be that gold which sealed the cracks, and so nobly rendered his deserved grace.

There was a heavy pause between them, both sensing what was about to happen. Vegeta's serious expression as he firmly cupped the back of his head made his pulse race at his new intention in their exchange, kept slow and deliberate as he was lowered to the ground's carpet of pink petals. He'd waited for so long to see that look in his eyes, without the damnable conflict that had always interrupted.

Not about to let the mood slip away, Goten tightly wound his legs around him, feeling the familiar heat swirling within him. Vegeta's weight above him and between his legs made his member begin to swell excitedly, and it was even more exhilarating to feel Vegeta's harden against his own. He could not help but squirm beneath him as their mutual sensitivity intensified, the unmistakable invitation shining in his eyes as their lips connected.

By then, Goten's balls were so tight and heavy, he was sure he could not walk if it were necessary.

Vegeta remembered more of their first kiss and of sleeping beside him than he acknowledged. Of course he'd wanted him, it had just been too soon. He unconsciously grasped his silky hair when his tongue slid meaningfully into his mouth, any doubts vanishing at the encouraging way he slowly squeezed his shoulders. He passed to catch his half-slitted, misty gaze in wonder, to be sure he hadn't imagined it.

"You are ready, aren't you?" Vegeta's tone became husky as he firmly stroked the demi Saiyan's muscular chest through his T-shirt.

"I always have been," Goten informed him, though all they'd lived seemed to have intentionally lead up to that very moment.

 _We're really gonna do it,_ Goten exclaimed excitedly to himself, his heart beating wildly.

It was not easy to keep his cool with Goten writhing so sexily beneath him while he grasped his hips, but Vegeta steadied him to slowly peel away the barrier of his clothing. The body of a god with such a sweet face was almost unfair, Vegeta thought as he paused to admire him, but a slow smirk graced his handsome face, knowing that he was as good as officially his. Had there ever been a question of that? He allowed Goten to remove his tank and sweats in turn, his gaze turning almost predatory at the lustful worship in the teen's eyes and eager hands.

Roughly he pinned Goten to the ground, liking his disappointed groan at the loss of contact where he so obviously needed it. Lightly Vegeta stroked the satiny skin of his rigid shaft, his mouth literally watering as he slid down his waiting body.

Goten's half-closed eyes snapped open to feel his tongue slowly lashing up the underside of his rigid member. He dared not move, to not miss the least of it.

Vegeta's tongue moved slowly up and down the underside of his rigid length, Goten's halting pants telling him he was doing it right. He moved up to swirl his tongue around the rim of his tip, then all over it, including his slit and the small nerve connecting the tip to the shaft.

Goten's hands entangled in his thick hair, which he kneaded approvingly at the dazzling new sensations. His small cries, timed with the sporadically clenching muscles of his thighs was driving his partner insane with lust.

A drop of pre-come leaked from his reddened tip, so Vegeta firmly clasped the base of his arousal with two fingers while continuing his ministrations. Such an act should not be so enjoyable, he thought as he engulfed him greedily into his mouth, his hand wrapped around what wouldn't fit. But who cared, it was.

Goten cried out sharply, and his trembling intensified. He knew it would be wonderful, but... His eyes squeezed shut while he alternated between softly kneading and yanking at his hair, as well as stroking and clawing his skin.

Firmly Vegeta held his hips down, kneading them encouragingly. "Relax," he told him, but could not resist an aroused smirk. He felt his own member jerk at his imagined scenario of binding him first. He was quite into that, he'd seen from his choice of manga.

While Goten was distracted by his dizzying vertigo of pleasure, Vegeta discretely coated his fingers with the lube he'd brought, and gradually wiggled in one finger, little by little. Only when he aggressively rubbed his magic point did Goten realize what was happening, and thrusted toward his talented mouth and fingers like there was no tomorrow.

"Vegeta, please let me...!" Tears of intense pleasure filled his eyes, and the mix of cruelty and stunning pleasure had control of his reeling senses. As badly as he needed release, he couldn't deny the wave of ecstasy he rode until he thought he would pass out.

Just as suddenly, Vegeta's fingers released their grip, and he sucked him deeply into his warm mouth with a lusty moan while his two fingers relentlessly hit his prostrate, fast and hard. "Oh fuck!" Otherwise, Goten was speechless. It was an earthquake of pure bliss that sparkled in his loins, then spread throughout his whole being. Did he want him to come like this?

Goten sobbed ecstatically as the sensations he'd coveted for so long finally washed over him, a vast ocean of delight...

He'd unconsciously ascended to Super Saiyan, glowing bright gold as it carried him so far out he was lost, then reassuringly back to shore with the only one he'd ever truly wanted. For as much as he'd powered up, his sparking release pulled only a soft groan from him. But the stars in his eyes told the real story.

"Thank you," he sighed, and curled up in Vegeta's arms.

The latter was amused by his choice of words, but understood. They made out calmly while Goten enjoyed his first real afterglow, but he could feel his lover's unsated lust as their makeout intensified.

Vegeta was not really paying attention when Goten turned him onto his back. At the moment, it didn't really matter what he did to him. His worry that Goten wouldn't actually know how had faded with time. He knew exactly what he was doing, and a little awkwardness as far as experience went only added to the charm. Vegeta didn't realize what Goten was doing right then until he'd moved down between his legs, gently taking his rigid length in hand.

"Goten, don't..." Vegeta began uncomfortably, but the demi Saiyan's tongue was already busy.

Goten firmly pushed him back down, and the sensations that followed changed his mind entirely. Slowly he stroked his silken hair, realizing just how much he did know. Stroking turned to hard kneading, then yanking while the demi's tongue teased him in the same way, until he was suspended somewhere between heaven and hell. His fingers gripped him a little too tightly, but it worked.

He hadn't wanted for Goten to do that yet, but how could he possibly resist now? _Why should I?_ he thought as he moved closer and closer to the drunken ecstasy that beckoned teasingly without letting him attain it.

Any illusion of Goten's ignorance was long gone when his lubricated finger relentlessly hit his quivering bundle of nerves.

"Come on, get me... off!" Vegeta managed between halting pants. He was not supposed to deny him release for so long, he thought in bewildered frustration.

The demi Saiyan only gave him a him a lazy smirk as their gazes locked. "What were you telling me again about patience?" he asked innocently, "Seems I forgot." His tongue resumed circling his darkened tip that weeped for release, watching his come drip all the way down his throbbing shaft before delicately licking him clean.

"Goten, I swear...!" Vegeta hissed through his teeth, appearing less threatening with his desire-reddened cheeks and starry, glazed eyes.

Without warning, Goten's fingers let go, and he sucked him deeply yet gently into his exciting, warm mouth.

It was so nice to not be obligated to muffle their sounds, Vegeta thought dimly as he climbed the last steep inch (or mile?) toward his coveted climax.

When it finally washed over him, Vegeta was conscient of nothing else. The falling cherry petals against the full moon blurred into the prettiest lights as he released himself in Goten's mouth. The latter waited for him to ride out his climax entirely, before returning to his place. Vegeta's lightly shaking arms curved around him while Goten hid his face, and if stars had filled Vegeta's eyes before, now they held entire galaxies. Galaxies of pink and blue stars, he thought before his eyes closed.

Neither moved for a long time, until Goten's desire invariably kicked in again. He'd waited for this for so long, he wasn't about to miss a single thing.

Still, Vegeta smiled knowingly at the aroused hesitation in his face. "I hope you didn't change your mind," he commented innocently.

The demi Saiyan only growled sharply as he seized handfuls of Vegeta's already mussed hair.

Understanding, Vegeta lowered him back onto the ground for a fresh makeout, the satiny pink petals on the grass offering them a pleasant carpet.

Exploringly he caressed Goten's muscular curves, again admiring his perfect body, of which other adolescents only dreamed. "I want to try something," he told him unexpectedly.

Goten watched in confusion as he pulled on his training gloves, but understood when he began caressing his heated body.

He gasped at the rough texture of Vegeta's gloves on his intimate skin, and froze when he felt them playing with his nipples. He'd never felt anything like it, and his arousal jerked in response. The two were connected somehow, he realized, which was confirmed when his other hand lightly touched his swollen member and balls.

"I wonder if I could make you come like this," Vegeta asked aloud, proceeding to rub and pull at his hard nubs.

"Oh my God," the teen groaned softly, sure that he would blow his load any second.

"You like that?" Vegeta's voice had turned sultry, only wanting to hear him say so.

Goten could only nod speechlessly between shuddering gasps, but mentally filed the experience away for future use.

Vegeta's mouth alternated with one of his hands, among soft licks, sucking, biting, and contrasting strokes with cruel pulling. "What if I tied you up first?" Vegeta whispered hotly, "So I could make you come as long as I want, and there's nothing you could do about it."

"Yeah, do it," Goten replied immediately, very much wanting it again and so near another climax. As long as they'd waited, both were ridiculously horny, and more sensitive than than usual. As caught up as he was in the excitement, he had just noticed Vegeta's re-lubricated finger inching back into him. The first time, he'd been too distracted to notice or care, but now he hesitated.

"I'll be careful," Vegeta promised.

"I know, it's just kinda weird," Goten explained, though it felt much less weird when he stroked his magic place again.

Vegeta resumed playing with his nipples and loins with his gloved hand, setting him off again. When his pleasured sounds became desperate enough for him, he removed the glove, and placed his hardened member at his entrance.

Still panting a little, Goten reached for him, and felt him slowly begin to penetrate. He stilled, holding nervously onto Vegeta's back. He felt so vulnerable, which would dampen his enthusiasm another time. Not now, and not with Vegeta. The latter seemed to understand, and kissed him softly until he was all the way in. They paused with a secret smile as their union was being officially sealed.

Goten was very responsive in all good ways, Vegeta noted admiringly. Every small flinch, wait, or thrust told him exactly what to do. There was a little pain, which Goten did his best to hide. Still, Vegeta understood it all, proceeding carefully until Goten was thrusting back hard. He clasped Vegeta's hands, and brought them to either side of his head, willing him to catch on.

Smiling knowingly, Vegeta roughly pinned down his wrists while he thrusted hard into him, nearing climax himself at his partner's ecstatic cries.

Goten would do anything for him, he realized, and paused. "Let me see how horny you are," he prompted enticingly, "Show me how you get off when you think no one's watching."

Goten's eyes widened, blushing at such implications, but was too far gone to argue. Locking Vegeta's regard, he reached down to take hold of his aching shaft, which he pumped in time to his lover's thrusts.

"Yeah, that's it," Vegeta panted excitedly, having half expected him to refuse. The sight almost made him come too early, so he clenched the base of his own member as he trusted harder. The demi was so exciting he would kill him, he thought.

Both were too close now. Vegeta could feel his tight sheath contracting wildly around his rigid heat, and for Goten, being stretched so far and filled up with what he'd so longed for would surely cause him to implode with pleasure.

Vegeta pushed his hands away and fucked him hard. Goten yelped in pain a couple of times, so Vegeta stroked his shaft again at his rhythm. Goten relaxed, pain blurring back into pleasure, yet the position became difficult.

Vegeta flipped him facedown without withdrawing, and fucked him harder while Goten cried out ecstatically. He trusted hard back against him, their thigh muscles clenching wildly.

Sensing it was time, Vegeta took hold of Goten's leaking member, in wonder of how big he was, and wondering how he would feel inside him. He stroked him first gently, then harder at the same rhythm of his thrusts until both were nearly sobbing for release. Desperately wanton, Vegeta seized a handful of his generously shaggy hair, and yanked it back as they both groaned, thrusting as though there were no tomorrow.

The last image that blurred in their vision was the falling sakura petals against the majestuous full moon, becoming for their eyes a beautiful, starry supernova of ecstatic bliss as they released, Goten a few seconds before Vegeta.

Both relaxed onto the ground as they were, their limbs trembling from the effort as they rode out their afterglow.

This was it, Goten thought with elation; he was Vegeta's now, and no one or nothing could change that. He reached for his now official lover, realizing also that only the final step had been crossed. He'd been his all along. Vegeta's satisfied smile alone told him that. Goten whispered a request to him, unsure whether he would accept, but to his pleasant surprise, Vegeta nodded without hesitation. Of course, he was also Goten's; and yes, he could physically make it so.

-:-

A couple of days after he'd last spoke to Goku, Piccolo landed a safe distance from any witnesses in the suburb of Satan City, pulling down the visor of his baseball cap. Sweatpants and a lightweight jacket covered his T-shirt and green skin, the same outfit Goku had given him years ago. "Ridiculous," he muttered to himself, wondering what he would not do for Gohan.

He paused at their mailbox and took out a handful of envelopes, then knocked.

Promptly, Videl opened the door with Gohan behind her, both smiling in recognition. "Good morning, Piccolo-san," Videl greeted pleasantly, echoed by her husband.

"'Postboy's appointed rounds," he announced dryly after a nod, and placed their mail in Gohan's hands.

The latter grinned and accepted it. "Make yourself at home," he bade, and Piccolo followed them to their spacious living room.

"Excuse me while I clean up. I'm all mucky from the garden." Videl apologetically held up a pair of dirt-covered gardening gloves.

"No problem, Videl," Piccolo replied kindly, acknowledging her discretion as he watched her retreat. "About your question," he said to Gohan, to the point as always.

The latter's face sobered, and he nodded.

"It did take me awhile to see them," he began, "I'm not sure exactly what you were expecting, but I didn't get the impression it was anything dramatic."

Gohan looked confused, clearly wondering if he'd ventured into civilization to tell him that. "Well, what were they doing? What's going on?"

"They were fishing at a lake, at the other end of the globe," Piccolo reported simply, "Goten is more familiar with Vegeta than I realized, but it sounded like one or both of them just needed to get away from things."

Gohan shook his head. "What are you getting at?"

Piccolo folded his arms and firmly told him, "I think it's time to let your brother grow up, and accept the decisions he makes for his own life. You can't stand over him forever."

Gohan nodded with a grim half-smile. "It would be you who tells me that." In other words, it was not his business, he interpreted, sifting mindlessly through the stack of bills. A colorful postcard stood out, and he paused to read the short, cheerful greeting from Goten. "Interesting timing," he commented, and handed it to Piccolo.

The Namek gave it a once over. "That's nowhere near where I saw them. They must have moved a lot."

"Probably." Gohan looked at the postcard again. "Well, what do you think I should do?"

"If Vegeta tells you about his fish, pretend to believe him," Piccolo replied, deadpan.

Gohan blinked. "Okay." He hadn't thought Goten would take the idea literally.

-:-

One could tell when the one lying beside him was not asleep, Vegeta thought with a glance at Goten's dark silhouette in the waning moonlight. He could tell by his unsettled ki, and silence in place of his soft, even breathing.

He reached out to give his shoulder a questioning squeeze. "Can't sleep?"

"Dunno," Goten mumbled dully. He glanced back at Vegeta, but quickly averted his eyes and bit his lip.

Vegeta propped up his head, not especially sleepy himself. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't want to leave." Goten stared emptily at their bags, packed and ready for their departure the next day. They looked sober and forlorn to him. They'd ended up staying for over two weeks, though they'd told the others it would be closer to a week.

"We'll be back," Vegeta encouraged, "Didn't I promise?"

"It's not that." Goten turned to hold onto his arm, hiding his face in his sweatshirt. "I don't mean to be clingy, but… I can't describe it."

He'd been thus since they'd made it physically official between them, Vegeta noticed, and slid his other arm around his neck. "I know what you mean."

"It's what you said," Goten pointed out.

"Just not in public," Vegeta reminded him, which earned him at least a slight smile.

But Goten had forgotten the humor. "I'm just tired of always needing an excuse," he explained, "It's gonna be worse now."

Vegeta frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't know." Goten fell silent, listening to the rain pattering on the canvas roof. They'd said goodbye to Kitsune and his clan early that evening, as they did not like the rain.

"We'll think of something, okay?" Vegeta tilted up his face for the kind of kiss that made him forget everything else, and Goten gladly leaned into it, wrapping him tightly in his limbs.

"Can we do it again?" he asked hopefully

"We did twice tonight" Vegeta reminded him doubtfully, "Doesn't that hurt?"

"A little," Goten admitted, "But I don't mind."

"Hn. I'm still sore from your turn the other night," Vegeta commented.

"Sorry," Goten appealed, "I got too excited."

"In the morning, okay? Turn around."

Goten complied, surprised when Vegeta began rhythmically stroking his hair. He stilled at the pleasant tingling, and relaxed onto his pillow, with one of his senpai's arms still around him. He hadn't known Vegeta could do that, but he apparently caught on fast.

Goten sighed, and his eyes closed contentedly after a few minutes. /Don't stop,/ he silently appealed. Vegeta did not, until he was sure the demi Saiyan was sound asleep, then kissed him softly.

Goten wondered why he only kissed him that way when he was asleep, but had no complaints. During such times, their usual worries seemed so far away and irrelevant. If only they would stay there.

-:-

The sky appeared dismally bleak and and cloudy to Goten as he and Vegeta flew back to the real world Saturday morning, with a brisk chill in the air. It was fitting, he thought glumly.

Vegeta had said almost nothing, especially hating conversation when no one knew what to say, and so both remained silent.

Only when mutually familiar territory was visible below, Goten asked, "Well, what should we do?"

Vegeta glanced at him. "Act normal. Go back to your house, complain how I put you through hell, and how exhausted you are."

Goten scowled. "That doesn't seem right."

"You're right, we should go tell your parents all about it," Vegeta drawled sarcastically. At the demi Saiyan's sullen glare, he added, "It will get you out of questions."

Goten thought about it, reluctantly acknowledging that he had a point. Both going to the same place would not look good, and neither were in the mood for more pretenses.

Silence returned until they reached a dusty canyon, where their paths separated. They hovered awkwardly in place, and Goten asked, "See you tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah." Vegeta hesitated, then scowled before he pulled Goten close for a quick, hard kiss.

The warm flush gave the demi Saiyan

some encouragement, and he managed a smile before he turned and flew off toward the large mountain considered to be the landmark of the Sons' home. Thus, he would not have to watch Vegeta leave.

The latter, however, watched him thoughtfully. They would not be the same, and had not been for the last week. Whether it was due to making their union physically official, the time they'd spent together in what was now their place, or something that eluded them, it had happened insidiously.

Maybe he was a hypocrite, he thought. As firmly as he'd insisted on waiting, was it really such a big deal? They'd gradually taken their exchanges a little farther over time, and the final step did not seem to be such a drastic gap; a bit like the stepping stones Goten had built over the river. In a sense, they'd done the same.

What the big deal was was in themselves, Vegeta realized. Though Goten's airborne form became a small dot in the gray sky before disappearing from his view, he did not sense him gone any more than when he'd been right next to him. It was like a strong, invisible cord that connected their ki, which had been there for longer than he'd been willing to acknowledge. Ki could be detected. As that were a fact, could such a connection between their ki be picked up as well?

It would not be possible to keep their relationship a secret forever, or even for much longer, they knew. Yet they must for another year.

Vegeta slowly flew back toward West City, lost in thought. He was in no particular hurry, either.

-:-

The door to the Sons' house was unlocked, meaning at least one of his parents was home. Goten casually entered with his backpack slung over one shoulder, and announced, "I'm back."

ChiChi looked up from her armchair, where she was reading a novel. "It's about time!" she declared, "Why didn't you call, if you were gonna stay so long?"

"I sent you a postcard," Goten replied.

"Yeah, we got it yesterday," she informed him flatly, "Nobody knew where the hell you were!"

"I told you before we left. What's the big deal?"

ChiChi's face was slightly pinched as she contemplated him, adding quietly, "I don't know, Goten, but I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Goten blinked, a picture of innocence. "You said you wanted me to train more."

To his relief, Goku stepped in from outside before she could say more. "Hey, Goten, glad you're back," he greeted him cheerfully, "How'd it go?"

"My muscles hurt and I'm tired, but in one piece," Goten replied with a theatrical yawn, "What's going on here?"

"The same, but Trunks' problem with his tutor's worse than we thought," Goku told him.

Goten paused. "What happened?"

Goku filled him in, looking unusually concerned.

Goten shook his head. "I knew she's a douche, but wow."

ChiChi added to Goku, "Bulma should let me have a talk with that bitch instead of you. I have experience dealing with corrupt tutors. Ask Gohan."

No one reminded her that Goku's naive appearance made people relax around him, believing themselves to be superior, and let slip what they normally would not.

The latter smiled, then remembered, "Oh yeah, Goten. Gohan wants to see you, and he's got the weekend off. Why don't you go tomorrow."

Goten indeed wasn't up for another long flight, but gladly pounced on a perfect excuse to leave. "I could stop by today," he replied, "It'll make tomorrow less busy."

"But you just got here!" ChiChi exclaimed, "It's like you're avoiding us."

"No, I'm just busy," Goten replied simply, "Mom, you wanted Gohan to become a scholar. You wanted me to be a fighter like Dad. Don't we both respect what you intended for us?"

Goku and ChiChi blinked at the unusually dutiful way Goten had spoken, and his mother folded her arms suspiciously. "I never know what to expect from you anymore."

"Well, I might as well go while I got my stuff," Goten stated lightly, "If I settle in, I'm done for the day."

That sounded more accurate to ChiChi. "You'll be back for dinner, at least?"

"Yeah, I won't be long." Goten glanced at the clock and waved.

Goku caught up with him outside. "I meant to ask," he began, and lowered his voice, "Piccolo overheard you guys talking. Is Vegeta really having problems with his training?"

Goten scowled. That was for him to deal with, not his father. Holding his offense in check, he only replied, "I don't think so. He's just never happy with it."

"Are you sure?" Goku asked doubtfully, "That wasn't Piccolo's impression."

Goten glanced sidelong at him, frowning. "Wait, where'd he hear that?"

"Capsule Corp, apparently. If he mentioned it, it's not nothing." Goku almost never looked that concerned, making Goten wonder what else the Namek had told him, and why he cared. In any case, he was leaning on his patience.

"Okay, why don't you go ask him and offer to help?" Goten snapped sarcastically, "I'm sure you'll be really surprised how that goes."

Goku watched him, puzzled at his irritation. "It's you I'm asking, not him. What are you mad about?"

"I'm not, I'm tired," Goten returned shortly, "Look, I'll be back in the afternoon, 'cause I want a nap."

"Sure," Goku accepted lightly, adding in a lowered voice, "Be careful." His serious expression suggested that he knew what he was saying, on a different subject.

Goten nodded, then took to the air. His fatigue was quite real, beyond mere sleepiness.

-:-

The reception at Gohan's place was more lighthearted, to his relief. Pan immediately pounced on her uncle's lap when he sat down.

"Well, did you have a nice time?" Gohan asked.

Videl set out a steaming pot of Oolong tea, and handed Goten his cup. He nodded his thanks and replied, "It was cool. I bet you guys are glad for the weekends."

"Definitely," Videl replied, "Someone else here needs to chill out, too." She cuffed Gohan's head, who grinned.

"And I'm not training because I'm busy sitting on my butt," Gohan stated in mock defiance, "And I'm enjoying it, too."

Goten snickered. "Okay with me."

"Did you get to do anything fun?" Videl asked him, "Tell us, so we can settle our bet."

"Well, we never did find Vegeta's two thousand pound catfish," Goten told them, to the group's amusement. Gohan triumphantly held out his hand to Videl, who shook her head as she reached into her purse and placed a crisp new bill in his hand.

"How big is that?" Pan wanted to know.

"Like your mom's car," Goten told her.

"Oh." Pan thought about it. "But Oji-san, that wouldn't fit in a lake. Would it?"

Goten laughed. "Don't tell him that."

"I'm glad it got away," she informed him stubbornly.

Gohan and Videl had decided to say nothing more about their previous discussion, and the group spoke of light matters. Goten told them what Goku had said about Trunks' tutor, and their eyes widened.

"Dang," Gohan muttered to himself. Aloud, he told them, "Trunks must think I blew him off. You're right, she must have something up her sleeve."

"I'm glad your dad is helping out," Videl said to the brothers, "He is the most tactful."

After Goten had indulged Pan with a video game match, Gohan motioned for him to follow him to his office.

"About the research you asked me for, I found a book that explains it well," the latter told him, and reached into a drawer, "It's pretty easy to read."

Goten nodded and inspected the book. It was entitled, 'Combat Stress Reaction in War Veterans.' The jacket specified that the author was a respected M.D. psychiatrist and had written many other books, and included several rave reviews. So it was really a thing. A specialist knew what he was talking about, Goten figured, and slipped it into his backpack. "Thanks. That'll give me something to read before my nap."

Gohan nodded, though his face was unreadable. "You know you're welcome to stay for dinner," he offered, "But I know how Mom is, and you probably do want to rest."

"Yeah." Goten glanced at the clock as they returned to the entryway, noting that he had just enough time for that. "I can stop by next weekend, though."

"Sure. Take care of yourself," Gohan bade him, "And tell Trunks to let me know what's going on there."

"Will do. You too, bro."

With conflicting thoughts, Gohan watched him leave, then fly off once he was out of general sight. Was it true about him and Vegeta, and if so, what did that change for himself?

He wandered back into the house, past the laundry room. Seeing a mound of his clean socks placed in a basket, he carried it back to the master bedroom. Whether it was true or not, he was the same as always, he thought, and nothing in his behavior suggested either way. If they'd kept such a secret for very long, doubtless he was used to that by now.

Maybe Videl was mistaken, and it was nothing unusual at all, he reflected as he placed his socks neatly in his drawer. Piccolo was right, he decided. Goten had to make his own decisions, and he should respect that. The real problem was not his opinion, but that of their parents and Vegeta's own family. He internally cringed at the thought, either way hoping he knew what he was doing.

Gohan thought of the book Goten had asked for, and frowned. Anyone could see through the blatant 'I have a friend who,' and another idea occurred to him. He knew that Vegeta wasn't aware of it, nor would he tolerate any help from anyone. Did Goten know something no one else did, and how? There was certainly more to the story than he knew, and he would give more than a penny for his father's and Piccolo's thoughts.

He paused to lift a rarely used pillowcase, smoothing out his Great Saiyaman outfit, and smiled.

-:-

Arriving home in the afternoon, Goten had no trouble eclipsing for a nap, after gathering a handful of snacks from the kitchen to squirrel up to his room.

"Don't make a mess like last time," ChiChi called after him, "You weren't raised in a tent, you know."

"Sure, Mom," Goten called back with an amused smile. He set the lot on his nightstand and sat cross-legged on his bed, opening his soda and a bag of chips.

He took the book from his bag, seeing the library bar code on its spine. Gohan would tear him a new asshole if he damaged a library book, so he finished his snack first.

Though reading non-manga books was not in his habits, he opened it and began reading.

It began with a simplified definition, symptoms, history, then further explanations accompanied by anonymous case studies. It was even more rare for a book to catch his interest, but he read it straight through:

[Combat Stress Versus Post Traumatic Stress Disorder]

['This section describes the similarities and differences of combat stress and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) to help you prevent or effectively manage both.']

['It seems like the terms combat stress and PTSD are everywhere these days; it's hard to go a few days without seeing a news story about veterans and these issues. But what are these concepts? Do they mean the same thing? And perhaps most important, what can be done?']

['Combat stress and PTSD are very different things. Unfortunately, sometimes they look quite similar, which makes their definition somewhat complicated.']

['By definition, combat stress is an expected and predictable reaction to combat experiences. After being in a combat zone where people are under constant physiological stress (for example, poor diet, extreme temperatures, little opportunity for good personal hygiene, etc.) and psychological stress (for example, concerns about the presence of improvised explosive devices, snipers, or the death of fellow service members), it is expected that most people will experience a number of responses.']

['These responses often show up as hyperstartle (that exaggerated response when something surprises you — often a loud noise), hypervigilance (being always on guard or super-alert), bad dreams/nightmares, irritability, sleep problems, etc. While these sound negative, some of these reactions are actually considered adaptive, notably hyperstartle and hypervigilance, as well as other benefits of combat stress, including increased physical strength, better endurance, and enhanced feelings of competency (not all combat stress is bad).']

['PTSD, on the other hand, refers to a psychiatric disorder which impairs functioning. It is considered very serious, whereas combat stress is considered standard']

['To receive a diagnosis of PTSD, a number of specific symptoms have to be present following a traumatic event in which death, serious injury, or sexual violation occurred or was a real possibility. This can be in the context of warfare, or any other situation that may cause trauma, both among soldiers and civilians. These include re-experiencing symptoms (such as recurrent dreams, flashbacks, or intrusive images), avoidance symptoms (such as avoiding conversations about the event or people associated with the event, memory loss, etc.) as well as other problems such as sleep disturbance, irritability/anger, concentration difficulties, hypervigilance or hyperstartle.']

['You'll notice some overlap between combat stress responses and PTSD symptoms, but that doesn't mean they are addressed in the same way. Keep in mind that combat stress isn't considered a medical problem or something that needs treatment. For many war veterans, combat stress simply wears off after being back home for a few weeks to months. However, if affected service members are not treated and/or symptoms persist, combat stress itself can persist or morph into a more serious condition (ex. PTSD, depression, an alcohol problem, etc.) Letting people know what responses are expected and giving some brief education about them can help to prevent further problems.']

The more he read, Goten felt his face drain of color, and he wondered if he even breathed.

 _What about Saiyans? What's the cure?_ he silently demanded.

So many of the signs seemed to stand out in angry, accusing red letters. As closely as they seemed to nail his questions, they could also be mistaken for other things, and the initial onset was said to be normal. Could that be Vegeta's case? Or Gohan's?

['I don't think it's a disorder,' one diagnosed veteran had replied to his interviewer, 'I lost my best friend to a landmine, and saw my whole platoon get bombarded. Sometimes I still hear the screams and explosions, so I can't even watch fireworks with my family. I mean, you'd almost have to be a sociopath not to be bothered by the s*** that happens in war.']

He read on, disheartened despite the optimistic note that the condition could be treated by a professional with medication, cognitive behavioral therapy, and a scary-sounding exposure therapy called EMDR.

Well doc, you see I'm not from around here, it started back when we fought an evil overlord who destroyed our planet, he thought sarcastically.

Goten read as much as he could, impatiently skipping some of the case studies which he found repetitive, until his eyes began to close on their own. He marked his page and slid the book under his pillow, vowing not say a word to Vegeta.

He'd hoped to find some encouragement in the reading, he thought bitterly. He did not need a specialist to tell him that he himself could not fix the problem, but who could? How in the hell could anything be done when they could not tell anyone at all, and his senpai would not, anyway. His only remaining hope was that he was wrong, and that Saiyans were immune to such things. Otherwise, we're natural sociopaths, he thought dryly.

Goten allowed himself to sleep off his fatigue, trying not to think of the fact that he was alone in his small twin bed. His dreams that followed may have qualified for one of the printed criterion.

-:-

**_West City~_ **

The next day after lunch, Goten arrived habitually at Capsule Corp, as they'd planned.

Bulma gave him a puzzled look. "What happened to your arm?" she inquired at the splint wrap he wore.

"I fell out of a tree," he replied cheerfully, and asked, "Is Trunks here?"

"Upstairs." She blinked. "How in the hell did you do that?"

"Guess I wasn't paying attention," he shrugged off with a spiteful smirk, ignoring Vegeta's sharp glare from the hallway.

It seemed to be lost on her, as she only muttered, "O-kay," deciding not to ask.

Goten headed to the stairway, intercepted by Vegeta. "What the hell is that all about?" he hissed under his breath.

"Passive-aggressive gaslighting," he muttered back, remembering a term he'd read about in Gohan's book.

"What?"

"Later," he prompted, adding, "There's a black and white movie called 'Gaslight' that I'd like to see. Can we rent it?"

"I guess," Vegeta agreed, by dislike of expressions that he did not understand. In a normal tone, he demanded, "Are you ready? You're late."

"Yeah, I just want to ask Trunks about his tutor," Goten explained, "Did they tell you about that?"

Vegeta scowled. "Yes, and I still don't see why they're sending your father to talk to her."

"First, because we never know when you're here," Bulma repeated, having overheard, "Second, Goku knows how to be subtle."

"You mean he's an idiot," Vegeta retorted, "Or he lets people think so."

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah." She looked at Goten again in confusion, and went back to the lab.

"Hurry up, then," Vegeta told him impatiently, and walked away mumbling, 'gaslighting.'"

-:-

Goten curiously walked upstairs and knocked on Trunks' door. It still seemed awkward to knock, but they'd become accustomed to odd circumstances.

Trunks knew why Goten had been lent another spare room in Vegeta's suite to begin with, but did not understand why he still slept there. Everyone he asked gave him a different answer, which made him wonder what else was below a very ironic iceberg.

Recognizing his ki, Trunks opened it. "Hey," he greeted him, "You just got back yesterday?"

Goten nodded. "Had most of the day off. Before I forget, Gohan wants to talk to you."

"Sure." Trunks hesitated, also looking puzzled. "What were you doing all that time?"

"He thinks I need to focus more," Goten replied, sticking to their story, "So, what exactly happened with the tutor? How'd you find all that out?"

He took a seat on one of the floor cushions, and Trunks told the story, again. "Maybe I should just make a recording," he concluded.

"I bet. How did my dad get involved, though?" One of his mother's complaints was that he was never around for such things.

"He knew because I skipped her class to train with him," Trunks replied simply.

Goten nodded, knowing that neither his father nor Vegeta would not see that as a true offense. "Good choice for an alibi," he complimented.

Trunks grinned. "I'm not murdering anyone, just going to make her wish she was dead."

They laughed, but the conversation was cut short when Vegeta yelled for them to get their asses down for practice.

"Okay, geez!" Trunks yelled back, and finished adjusting his gi. "C'mon then, before we get a death wish."

Trunks still wondered why his father did not train with Goten and himself anymore, and asked Goten if he'd learned the reason.

"All I know is he isn't happy with his progress," Goten again pretended to guess, which wasn't actually a lie, "It's probably nothing, though."

"Probably," Trunks agreed. He watched him during their practice, trying to understand what was amiss. Predictably, Goten had become stronger and faster than himself, and his technique had changed. It was more like his father's now than Goku's, though his Kame-school foundation was evident. He also wondered with more than a little jealousy if the other demi Saiyan realized his potential to become the strongest of the remaining Saiyans. The only thing preventing that was his own mind, which he didn't seem to realize, either.

His father had been extremely jealous of Goten when they'd been kids, Trunks recalled, yet he hadn't made an enemy of him. Goten had become the son he'd really wanted, he thought bitterly, because he himself could not make both of his parents happy. 'Son' did not really fit, just as nothing did fit lately. Their families seemed to make up a half blind entity, whose right hand didn't know what the left hand was doing.

-:-

Vegeta had a similar thought when he was able to speak with Goten after practice that evening. They settled for an antichambre of the Gravity Room, which did not have a particular purpose, but there were no cameras.

"What's going on?" The other Saiyan's heavy silences did not always mean something was wrong, which Goten had learned to sense.

"I'd rather you didn't repeat this to anyone, but as you know, I still monitor your progress," Vegeta began, "What some of the others think are faults, are just opportunities they don't have."

"What do you mean exactly?" Goten asked.

Vegeta turned from the small window, where he watched nothing but the beginning sunset. "You've made better progress than I expected. Otherwise, I would see you as another rival."

"Really?" That was a compliment if Goten had ever heard one.

"It's time to look at what you have," Vegeta continued, "Nothing to interfere, and no less than both me and your father, except for the experience. That almost always comes at a bad time. In some ways, you get stronger; in others, something is lost. But it doesn't have to be like that, in case you wondered why I make your training difficult. Your only setback is that you're getting in your own way, because you don't truly know what you can do." It frustrated the hell out of him, he needn't add.

"How so?" Goten asked, but he was listening attentively.

"I want you to be the next strongest Saiyan, Goten," Vegeta stated.

He blinked, at a loss for words, and wondered if he'd even said that to Trunks. "Me?"

"If you are the strongest, you don't have to be," Vegeta concluded, "But I think you can. All you need to do is decide you will, if you really accept."

Goten froze, humbled to hear that from Vegeta, and its deeper meaning. Despite what he knew to be facts, and what they entailed, he nodded with a bow and replied formally, "Thank you, I accept. I'll do my best."

-:-

The next few days went by as mere routine, on the surface. Goten spent his time between his own home and Capsule Corp, and his parents were satisfied with Vegeta's grudgingly positive report on his training. ChiChi was happy that Goten was busy doing something, so that coast was clear.

Alone in their hidden forest, Vegeta had found it easy to rest, and thus to better focus on his techniques. It was not so at Capsule Corp, where he spent too much time dodging annoyances. He, too, wished they could do away with the secrecy. It reminded him too much of the Icejin occupation, when the slightest error could cost one their life, or worse. Such was not the case now, but it leaned on his nerves just the same.

One day during a break, Vegeta looked for a distraction to kill his boredom. Goten had left with Trunks to see Gohan, so he wandered into his room for something to read.

He knew where his X-rated manga were hidden, and looked to see if there was anything new. Goten knew he read them, but neither said anything.

He shook his head in vague amusement to see an actual book among them. It was certainly to camouflage what the others were, as it was not his style to read. He was about to set it aside, when its title caught his eye.

_..._ _The hell?_

Frowning, he forgot about his initial search and brought it back to his room. Psycho-babble about war veterans. That would explain the demi Saiyan's odd questions of late, he thought impatiently, and out of morbid curiosity, he began to read.

-:-

Later that evening when the household had settled down, Vegeta knocked on the door to the spare room that was Goten's for the time being.

"Come in," Goten called. He was idly playing his game console, and looked up hopefully when he entered and closed the door. However, his stern expression made his smile fade.

Vegeta held up the book he'd found, and firmly set it on the night table. "I don't know if you wanted me to read this or not, but who put that garbage in your head? Your brother?" he assumed by the Satan City Library stamp.

Goten stared at the book, then Vegeta, like a deer caught in headlights. "No, I didn't. And nobody, I asked him for it."

Vegeta covered his forehead in quiet seething. "You told him that about me."

"No way. I used the 'I have a friend who' story. Works every time," he assured him confidently.

"Is that really what you think?" The other Saiyan's voice was calm, though laced with ridicule. When he said nothing, he sighed impatiently. "Goten, that's all about humans. They have names for the damnedest things."

Goten's mouth tightened at his condescending tone. "Did you read it all?"

"Indeed. The first thing it covers is normal, and every army has a few wimps. The real specialists said so," Vegeta stated flatly.

"Where?" Goten challenged.

Vegeta picked up the book again and flipped through the pages, then stopped at one. "Here's an example. The soldier's personal doctor spoke to his Colonel: ['What boils down to weak moral fiber or poor leadership in a minority of soldiers must not be accepted as an excuse to not perform their patriotic duty. No soldier should be allowed to think that loss of nervous or mental control provides an honorable avenue of escape from the battlefield, and every endeavor should be made to prevent slight cases leaving the battalion or divisional area, where treatment should be confined to provision of rest and comfort for those who need it, and to heartening them to return to the front lines,'"] he read aloud.

Goten looked at the passage, and slumped. "That was 1935, in occupied Germany."

"So?"

"Bad example," Goten said quickly, turning to another page, "And it wasn't as well known back then. Look at the list of symptoms. Don't they all fit?"

Vegeta internally face-palmed. "Those could be anything! Last time I couldn't sleep, it was because I couldn't remember the name of the actress from that crazy film you made me watch. There you go, insomnia and memory loss."

"Angela Landsbury." Goten shot him a reproachful glance. "Guess I chose a dumb hiding place."

Vegeta's expression calmed. "I know you mean well. Just don't believe everything you hear."

"I hope it isn't that," Goten replied dejectedly, "That it will go away, or at least can be fixed somehow. I don't want you to be unhappy."

Vegeta sat down on the side of the bed and considered him. "Why can't I stay mad at you?" he asked rhetorically.

"Well… " Goten slowly wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "I could remind you."

"That isn't why I came in here," Vegeta objected, but didn't resist.

"No, but you can stay for it." Goten reached behind him to firmly lock the door, then trapped him still for a long kiss.

He'd almost forgotten how nice that felt. The rest of the house was asleep, he could tell, though he didn't trust either of them to wake up early enough for him to eclipse. Once again, he envied Kakarot's knowledge of Instant Transmission.

Guessing his concern, Goten programmed his phone alarm. "No worries, 'Geta. Come on, we deserve it."

Recalling his conversation (as it were) with Kitsune, Vegeta contemplated nature, of which they were an inextricable part. In Goten's company, the apprehended moral accusations and homosexual slurrs ceased to exist.

Against his better judgment, Vegeta said nothing when Goten shut off the light and reached for him. Too easily, he let himself drown in his lover's embrace. It would not bother him if he could opt to never or rarely resurface. It would not bother him at all.

-:-

First thing Monday morning, Goku arrived at Capsule Corp, true to his word as always. Trunks, the only one awake at such an hour, opened the door.

"Hey, Goku-san," he greeted sleepily but cheerfully, and led him in. "Can I get you a coffee or tea?" he offered.

"Nah, I'm fine, thanks," Goku declined, noticing Trunks' own half-empty coffee mug. "It doesn't seem to be doing you much good," he commented, "Didn't sleep much?"

"Not really," Trunks admitted behind a stifled yawn. Noticing Goku struggling to loosen his tie of the suit ChiChi had insisted he wear for his appointment with Trunks' tutor, the demi Saiyan grinned.

"Hang on." He reached up to fix the damage, and loosen Goku's tie in a way that still looked smart.

"Thanks," Goku bade him, glad to breathe normally again, "Maybe I was hung in another life."

Trunks snickered as he adjusted Goku's lapel. "It must have involved a noose and a needle, then."

"Don't say that!" Goku exclaimed, but also laughed. "Isn't your mom awake yet?"

"Probably getting Bra ready," he guessed, hesitating. "Thanks for your help. You really shouldn't, though."

"Of course I should," Goku replied, "You have enough work to do. I don't want you dealing with things like that."

Trunks noticed that his voice had softened, and looked up at him. Something in his expression made his heart knock at his ribs, and he felt giddy. Not finding his voice, he only offered a faint smile.

He was about to look away in embarrassment, but their gazes locked. Without meaning to, Goku reached down to smooth back a lock of his hair, which was incredibly soft. "Your hair's grown out a lot," he commented uselessly to cover the awkwardness, but both were still.

Trunks realized that his hands were still on Goku's shoulders, and he didn't want to remove them. There was no harm in indulging a secret thought.

Before he knew what was happening, Goku softly lifted his face, and moved closer. Their lips connected, first softly, then the kiss slowly deepened when Trunks' arms wound automatically around his neck. He was strong, sweet, and a great kisser, the demi Saiyan thought with elation, dying inside when Goku's strong arms encircled him to pull him close.

 _No,_ Trunks thought with dismay at feeling himself obediently harden at his warm contact. But Goku's body responded likewise, and Trunks lifted one knee to partially wrap around him, intensifying the friction. "I want you," he mumbled into his thick black hair.

"I know," Goku sighed heavily, and squeezed his shoulder. It was early. They were alone. The demi Saiyan wanted it badly. It would be so easy... too easy...

Goku had been troubled for a long time by his memories of his future double. Something to do with chemistry had drawn them together for a star-crossed liason, and the heaviness in their hearts at knowing they would never see each other again was accompanied by a certainty that it would always be there, regardless.

It wasn't fair, Goku thought with a pang of guilt; they were at once the same person, yet very different. He could not. Gently he pulled back. "I'm sorry, Trunks," he mumbled under his breath, "I don't know what I was thinking." _Like hell he didn't._

"That was nice," Trunks replied as quietly, "It's okay." _Do it again,_ his Saiyan genes censored, but he tried his best not to show his disappointment when Goku gingerly stepped back.

"Maybe I'll have a cup, after all," Goku added with a smile to cover his bewildered nerves.

"No problem." Understandingly, Trunks poured him a cup, and they sat down to change the subject. They spoke as though nothing had happened, waiting for Bulma to join them. As much as their plans were a drag, the results would be worth it, they agreed, and the conversation turned to humorous tales of the worst teachers ever.

"Nice to see you in good moods," Bulma commented pleasantly when she came in with Bra. She placed the small girl in her highchair and poured a cup for herself. "It's perfect, really," she added without any necessary modesty, "While you soften her up, we'll be toasting her." At that moment, the toaster popped out several piping hot slices. "Speaking of toast, it's ready."

-:-

Vegeta awoke just before sunrise so that he could sneak back to his own room. They'd changed into their pajamas during the night, as they never knew what to expect. He paused before shaking Goten's shoulder. At times, he looked so small in his sleep, and his hair was so messy from the night before, it looked more like Goku's now than his own.

The demi Saiyan awoke groggily, and Vegeta snuck a quick kiss to signal his exit. Unknown and unseen, they exchanged a secretive smile before Vegeta silently returned to his room.

 _We got this,_ Goten thought triumphantly, still smiling when he shut his eyes again.

His reverie was interrupted when Vegeta quickly snuck back in. "Forgot my slippers," he mumbled, before assuming a normal gait and stepping out again.

He almost bumped into Trunks, who was just about to knock. The purple-haired demi Saiyan shot him, then Goten an inquisitive look. "Your slippers?" he asked in confusion, forgetting his purpose.

"He borrowed them," Vegeta blew off, except that they'd visibly been placed neatly beside Goten's own pair.

Trunks studied them skeptically, not believing it this time. "Alright, what the hell is going on?" he asked in a lowered voice that did not suggest that it was much of a mystery.

"None of your damn business," Vegeta snapped, having had more than enough.

Trunks' eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, Goku appeared behind him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"They were expecting me here shortly, Trunks," Goku told him confidently.

Trunks became confusedly subdued, but he cast a suspicious glare at his father and best friend, then Goku. His face turned colder than they'd ever seen directed at any of them before. "And I thought Mom was overreacting," he declared, bewildered, then turned on Goku. "Traitor!" he hissed at him, "Keep taking me for an idiot! You know what, don't bother talking to the bitch. It's nothing I can't handle, certainly without you!" then he stalked off.

 _I'd expect anything from THOSE two_ , his racing thoughts railed to himself, _But Goku? I_ _trusted him!_

Concealing his pained look, quietly Goku closed the door to meet their frozen expressions, and watched them grimly for a moment. "It's a lot sooner than I thought, but can I assume you have a place to go?"

Both stared incredulously at him. "What?" they demanded in unison.

Goku turned to face the window, where the blue and pink aurora peeked around the edges of the curtains. "I knew about you guys since the beginning," he reluctantly told them, "What's important right now is your safety and peace in the family. But it doesn't look like both are possible."

Goten was shocked to pale silence, but Vegeta demanded, "You knew about what? And why are you defending us?"

Goku turned to face him. "If I thought you were taking advantage of him, I wouldn't. But I know you care for him, and it isn't gonna be easy."

"Kakarot, we don't need-" Vegeta began hautily, but sat back down and slumped. "What do you want?"

"I told you," Goku replied, "Just tell me if you have someplace to go."

Goten nodded hesitantly, but Vegeta declared angrily, "No worries, we're out of here. But we are _not_ running away like a couple of cowards!"

"Never!" Goten agreed, his own anger catching up, "Before they start running off their mouths, first why don't they explain how they think they can stop us."

Vegeta nodded approvingly.

"I never said to run away," he clarified firmly, "But don't count on Trunks being quiet... I'll do what I can, but it's gonna be hell. I'm sorry."

Goten shook his head in confusion. "Wait, you're okay with it? Why would you be on our side?"

"Because you're my son and my best friend," Goku reminded them, in a voice that suggested he shouldn't need to. "I don't expect the others to understand me any more than you." He paused. "I meant that you knew the risks. I think you're prepared, and you should get your stuff ready for when the shit hits the fan."

Goten and Vegeta exchanged a wary glance, but neither spoke. It was one thing to know the risk of following one's heart, and quite another when staring down its proverbial barrel. The rug had been pulled out from beneath their feet, which they'd dreaded but didn't truly believe. Vegeta had more experience watching the world fall apart, Goten thought dryly, and he could really use some advice. They found themselves alone now with their backs to the wall, and Goku as their only ally. Goku, and a fox.

※※※

TBC in Chapter 6...

 **Soundtrack** :

\- Master of Puppets, Metallica

\- Disposable Heroes, Metallica

\- The Unforgiven 2, Metallica

\- Painkiller, Three Days Grace

\- Bird, Yuya Matsushita

\- What I've Done, Linkin Park

A/N: That was a long-ass chapter... thank you for your patience, fearless readers! ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has hit the fan for our heroes.

Chapter 6

They say the safest place is in the eye of the storm. Looking back now, we were just close enough to its eye to get all the fallout. I didn't recognize myself anymore. Vegeta didn't either. They also say opposites attract, but can they survive? I guess he had a point, we were screwed from the start. And little did I know that I hadn't described Vegeta's problem. I'd described it for future me. 

 

\- 孫悟天、5月_10日

-:-

Uncomfortable silence lingered among the three Saiyans in the spare room, each within his own somber thoughts.

Goten opened the closet to take a change of clothes from his bag, and automatically tossed Vegeta a clean set of his own which was kept there.

While they quickly changed and straightened up the room, Goku pondered how accustomed they'd become to the cover-up.

The demi Saiyan gave his father what appeared to be a watch, but contained a recording device. "I gotta give Trunks the earpiece," he told them, then uneasily left the room.

Goku and Vegeta only stood rigidly with mirrored glares, before the former listened to be sure his son was out of earshot. "I meant what I said last year," he told him firmly, and unconsciously clenched a fist, "I'm not 'okay with it' like Goten thinks. I hoped it was a phase that would pass."

"I tried to warn you, Kakarot," Vegeta reminded him, "You tuned it out." He'd known this day would come sooner or later, and the familiar crackling of their opposing ki beckoned a fight. Part of him itched for it, though he knew that since the last few months, he wouldn't stand a chance. That had never stopped him before, but it would do nothing but make the situation worse.

Goku considered him and their plight, and seriously asked, "Do you regret it?"

Vegeta held his glare, unmoving. "I don't know what you want to hear, but no."

Goku nodded, grudgingly satisfied, yet knew that whatever he did, it would be wrong. If the timing had been less awkward, he could be in the same boat. Trunks was confused right now, and in no measure to be involved in such a thing.

And how was he different from Goten? Trunks followed his own way, which had been traced for him since his birth. Goten had said 'screw this,' and done what he wanted. He'd set his intention and was hell-bent to go for his own adventure, too bad if it sent him over a cliff. He had a recklessly-fuelled confidence that Trunks did not.

Ironically, ChiChi commented that he was he was doing better since his training arrangement. The same thing would turn Trunks' life into a worse mess than that of his future counterpart. Was that what it was about to him, that he had to test his resistance to convince himself he was the same man? One person could not coexist with himself.

Goten was his son, goddammit! As Trunks was Vegeta's. He'd known about them all along, so why was it just now that he wanted to slam his fist into the other's smug face?

The dread of showing himself to be a hypocrite in his own esteem, and of turning Goten against him, was all that stopped him from answering the echoing call of a duel.

Again unsure of his role, he turned back to Vegeta. "I know you treat him well. If you keep it that way, I'll keep my word and do what I can for another year."

Vegeta scowled suspiciously. "How do I know I can trust you?"

“Easy," Goku replied crisply on his way out, and reminded him in a low, darkened tone, "You're still alive."

-:-

Trunks was predictably in his large, airy room, his stoic face unreadable as he mechanically packed his backpack for the day. His ressemblance to his father did not always show up at the best of times.

Cutting to the chase, Goten entered to hand him the earpiece, the reason why the other demi Saiyan had knocked on his door earlier just before the commotion. 

Trunks glanced at the object and told him flatly, "I told him he doesn't need to come along."

"Why are you mad at him?" Goten asked in confusion.

“Not mad," Trunks replied coldly, "Disappointed."

“Well, he's still going with you and your mom," Goten told him impatiently, but added, "What's he got to do with it?"

The younger prince kept his eyes on his bag. "I was worried about you, Goten, and then about my dad." He turned his head, unable to look at him.

"Well, what are you waiting for to go tell on us?" Goten asked sarcastically.

“I have better things to do," Trunks retorted, "And there ain't no way I'm stepping in that mess."

Goten watched him warily. "At least, since it's not your business."

He turned to stare at his friend, bewildered. "You know, okay if you like guys. But him? Obviously it doesn't bother you to cheat on my mom. How would you like it if I had an affair with one of your parents?"

Goten rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

“For real," Trunks challenged out of morbid curiosity, "What would you think?"

“I don't know," Goten replied thoughtfully, "I'd want them to be happy."

“You say that now," Trunks muttered, but blinked. "I wonder what you even talk about. What do you see in him?"

“What does anybody see in someone?" Goten pointed out, "I love him."

That was not what Trunks wanted to hear. "So your crazy affair is more important to you than your families and friends."

“It's not some sleazy affair!" Goten seethed, "And I don't have to listen to you making it sound like one."

"That makes your choice easy, then," Trunks snapped.

"Excuse me?" Goten demanded, and his mouth pinched coldly at his turn, "If you think I have to choose, you already made your choice." He set the earpiece on the window sill, and stalked out before his simmering anger could boil over.

Trunks slammed the door behind him, and it was the last time they spoke.

-:-

During the ride home from his principal's office, Trunks said almost nothing, only watched sullenly as the week's dismal, gray rain formed rivets on the car window.

As much as he'd anticipated a smug victory at seeing his tutor fired and taken in by the police for questioning, his satisfaction was only grim. Her lawyer would probably have her out within the hour.

In the space of just a few minutes that morning, the glass world around him had shattered, which no one except Goku even knew.

He'd handled the situation in a mature, responsible way, his mother had complimented him, but it seemed irrelevant now. She and Goku were talking casually in the front seat, while Trunks was sullenly glad for his personal space in the back.

"You're awfully quiet," Bulma commented with a glance at him in the rearview mirror.

“Just thinking," Trunks muttered automatically, "I guess it wasn't any big deal."

“You sound disappointed," she observed, copping his monotone voice, "The proof that the apple doesn't roll far from the tree."

Beneath his casual banter, Goku's heart had remained sunken like lead. Trunks had not spoken a word to him all morning, making himself perfectly clear. It reminded him of Mirai Trunks leaving all those years ago, and all other irony could go home now.

He'd known all along since when and how his best friend and his youngest son had been together, and had accepted to play the ostrich. He could not approve of it, but as a conflict would only set off the waiting time bomb, he had to make sure the passage went smoothly. His opinion was irrelevant. He'd told Gohan at only eleven, 'you're a man now,' meaning 'fight to kill'; Piccolo's training, that was boot camp, kid. In another way, he was nonverbally telling Goten the same thing, as was best for the higher good.

To cover the awkwardness that followed, he commented, "We were all worried about the company's employees."

Bulma thought about Goku's sideline altruistic nature. She could not truly know how he'd loathed what he'd become all those years ago, and that he'd dedicated his life to fighting that demon, and making sure it could never get to anyone else. Each one's worst enemy is themself, as he'd been taught. To have a chance of beating himself, he must acquire the right skills and strategy by defeating the most powerful. And why, he'd refrained from asking. 

Bulma was right, he thought again. His very presence with his family and friends only called upon them his curse, and at those times, he had to leave, no matter for how long. They blamed him for that, he also knew. Their enemies put such a cheap price on life, and he was too conscious that it could well be him in the enemy's place, as the other Saiyans and the Icejin had expected.

But who would be there when no one was left? None of them were immortal; they had to see the mission carried on by the next generation. Despite having always known that, the thought hit him like an asteroid.

“... Hel-lo?" Bulma's impatient voice broke his reverie, "I said I can't believe how that slut was flirting with you."

“Yeah, it was embarrassing," Goku agreed, "Maybe we should've sent Master Roshi instead."

They both laughed, as Trunks would have before. A lot of things could have happened before. He would have followed Goku to hell, if he weren't such a selfish bastard. It wasn't fair. Goten had done essentially the same thing, and they were happy. Did he not deserve to be happy as well? Apparently, his purpose was only to shut up and make other people happy, and that was for the birds.

-:-

Trunks and Goten were not talking anymore, Bulma noticed that evening at dinner, not even to say 'pass the salt'. Her parents blew it off as usual, but even Bra looked troubled as the time crawled by, and the thick tension left everyone in their own uneasy silence.

Trying to figure out what had mysteriously worsened, she asked them, "Did you have a fight or something?"

Goten grinded his teeth, but replied only, "Nah. He needs all his brain cells to study." He stabbed his steak with his fork, meanly satisfied to catch Vegeta's glare at Trunks.

Undaunted, she asked Trunks, "Well, why don't you train with Goku anymore? You'll have time until the school hires a new tutor."

Internally bristling, Trunks replied, "Not really. I'll have no time for training." The verbal strike at his father made the latter's glare sharpen, but nothing more.

So Trunks and Vegeta were not talking, either. She frowned, but kept it to herself.

Everyone began to dread meal times, preferring to speak to no one at all, and finding convenient excuses to dine at separate times.

It was too much for everyone and could not continue, she knew. If she were honest, she'd ceased to care long ago. Sometimes, as Goku had said, a damaged part must be severed for the good of the whole. 

Goten did not know what to do, haphazardly dodging the awkwardness between home and Capsule Corp.

“I'm getting tired of it," he complained to Vegeta one day in the Gravity Room, "Maybe I should stay with Gohan."

“He also knows," Vegeta pointed out, recognizing, "But he would probably make it less difficult for you."

Goten considered it, but he could not leave Vegeta to deal with it by himself. "Why can't we just go back to our forest?" he asked crossly.

"For the last time, I'm not running away. That is why I wanted to wait," Vegeta stated flatly.

"And if we had," Goten challenged, "Would they believe it? Would it make any difference to them?" He paced restlessly, having grown more frustrated as the days wore on.

“That doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Vegeta's voice raised, also having had it up to his eyeballs, "If one more year is too much for you, maybe it's not worth it."

“That's not what I said!" Goten yelled back, "How bad does it have to get before you react? Maybe it's not so important to you. If that's what you think, maybe I should just go back there myself!"

"If your ass is on fire, then go!" Vegeta snapped, having half a mind to take the first spaceship away from the whole damned planet.

"Fine!" Fed up with the whole ordeal, Goten stalked out of the Gravity Room, then out of Capsule Corp.

He'll be back, Vegeta scoffed to himself, and turned up the gravity level another 100G.

-:-

Avalanche~

Goku paced restlessly in the Sons' small house, as he'd done for the last several days. Maybe he'd judged Vegeta too harshly, he thought, realizing that in fact he was jealous of him and Goten. 

He was not unhappy with ChiChi, he thought with a pang of guilt at a glance at their wedding picture. He'd cheated on her before with future Trunks, and knew that guilt well for which he'd made up… when Goten was conceived, to add to the irony. Would he really be willing to risk losing what he knew he had, for a gambled illusion to fill an old, empty space?

Trunks was not the same as his future double, he thought grimly. The latter had been wise beyond his years yet still pure, and had never behaved like an immature, spoiled brat. Then again, though Trunks was of legal age, was it fair to resent him for being a normal teenager? In their best interest, he could not let it happen, anyway.

In his place, Vegeta would have simply dropped it, brooded for awhile, and moved on. That was what he should do, but not before he'd made his peace. Whether or not Trunks accepted it was his problem, but Goku's own karma would be clear.

He paused, hearing the washing machine running while ChiChi sorted the next load, and picked up the telephone in their bedroom. 

Resolute, he dialed Trunks' cell phone number, prepared to leave a message for his ignored call.

It rang several times on the other end, and to his surprise, Trunks picked up. "Hello?" his dull voice answered impatiently.

“It's Goku," he stated uselessly, but jumped to the point, "I wasn't looking forward to it either, but we have to talk." He was met by a long silence. "Are you still there?"

“Yeah," Trunks replied flatly, "What's there to talk about?"

Again to the point, Goku firmly told him, "If you're mad at me for what happened with us, okay. But if it's for them--"

“It's not about us," Trunks interrupted, "And it's not a good idea to mention it on the phone."

"Then why did you call me a traitor?" Goku demanded. It took a lot to offend him, but that was unacceptable.

A heavy silence followed before Trunks seethed, "You knew my dad and Goten were having an affair all the time, and you covered for them! Even from me. How could you think that is even remotely okay?"

“It's not about what I think," Goku returned sternly, "I care about my son and my best friend. Maybe now you see why Goten almost died and your father gave him the senzu bean. Do you know neither of them could have been brought back?"

Trunks was silent again. "What?"

“I hope you're at least glad they're alive." Goku's voice had calmed. "You know your parents split up long before Goten was involved. Almost everyone knows that, they just don't want to embarass anyone. I don't get why you're still angry about it."

Trunks sighed wearily. "I don't even know what to think. They don't talk to anyone else, anyway. They made it perfectly clear I'm nothing to either of them anymore."

“You know that isn't true," Goku objected, "Do you think it's easy for them?"

“See, you're defending them again!"

"I think you can put yourself in their place, if you think about it," Goku pointed out.

“That's what I thought," Trunks snapped accusingly, "You were just using me so I wouldn't tell anyone!"

Goku's eyes narrowed. "You know I would never do such a thing! The timing was really bad. I know that."

“I haven't said anything because I want nothing more to do with it, or either of those two." Trunks paused. "Know what, I don't even care. The only reason I picked up is because I want an explanation, about what I asked you a long time ago that you wouldn't tell me."

Goku had thought about that long enough to reply, "Okay Trunks, that's fair enough. When are you free?"

"Tomorrow afternoon's fine." Trunks' voice had warily calmed, but at least he'd dropped the insolence.

"Three o'clock?" Goku guessed.

"I'll be home." Not knowing what more to say, Trunks hung up, as did Goku.

✧

Meanwhile, ChiChi realized with annoyance that she'd run out of fabric softener. Goten could buy some more on his way back, so she picked up the phone.

Hearing Goku's voice on the other extension, she was about to hang up, but froze. She heard everything from Goku asking Trunks, 'Then why did you call me a traitor?'

Goten. Vegeta. It all made sense now, in a sickeningly jarring way. ChiChi felt her face turn pale as she almost dropped the receiver.

-:-

After sunset, Vegeta retired to his room after another half-hearted excuse for training, or rather venting his built-up frustration.

He did not bother trying to sleep, but reclined idly on his bed. His attention strayed to the watercolor painting on his wall which Goten had made for him. It was different from the others, this one being a night scene of familiar cherry blossoms against the full moon. It was almost psychedelic in style, and its meaning brought a faint smile to his face.

It faded quickly as he recalled their falling out. He'd not sensed his presence anywhere near for the last three days. It had not seemed like a real argument to him. Goten, however... dammit.

He was probably telling his foxes all about what a bastard he was, he thought dryly. The rest of his assumption was not reassuring.

He could not stand over him all the time, he thought with irritation, and was not about to go after him when it had been Goten who'd started it.

The demi Saiyan took things too personally. If he didn't know by now when he was serious or venting, he never would. Then again, he remembered too well his own prediction that he would grow tired of it all, which had been his exact words.

He'd put his foot in his mouth, Vegeta thought grimly. Having decided to let him cool off, his world was dull and empty in Goten's absence.

Vegeta shut off his lamp and pulled the sheet over his head, willing his eyes to stay shut. He managed to drift off, realizing again how weary he actually was since their return from a comfortable place of freedom, which he hadn't known existed. His first thought had been correct; it was an obvious illusion, fuelled by the vivid imagination of a naive young man who could believably be his son. Age wasn't important, said their new broken record-like mantra. Yeah right. 

✧

At some obscure hour between midnight and dawn when Goten returned to West City, he hesitated at the sprawling property of Capsule Corp.

He did not know if Vegeta was awake, even less what to say. He felt stupid, having snapped under the pressure in a most admirable display of immaturity.

But Goten followed his instinct, which told him that should be their biggest problem.

He slipped past the security drones, and floated up to the window of the spare room he used to make sure the window was opened to a crack, then to Vegeta's slightly opened window. 

The room was dark and he was asleep, so Goten quietly let himself in.

Kicking off his sneakers, he carefully sat on edge of the bed and leaned against the headboard. 

One of the cats was sleeping at Vegeta's feet, and the sheet was still pulled over his head. Wondering how he managed to breathe like that, Goten remained still.

Vegeta sensed his presence and lowered the sheet from his head, but said nothing.

"I won't stay," Goten quickly told him in a lowered voice, "I just wanted to see if--"

Vegeta cast him a sullen glare, and firmly pushed him down onto his second pillow.

Goten slid under the covers, listening to the drowsy chirp of crickets outside.

Finally, Vegeta asked, "Guess you were back in the forest?"

"A different one." It had not seemed right to go back there without him, but he'd needed some time to himself for some shameless sulking. 

Clearly Vegeta could also also use some calm, once it got through his head. "I wasn't mad at you," Goten added uncomfortably, "They're all driving me nuts."

"Yeah, I know." The former gazed at the moon sliver's dim beam around the curtains.

Goten sighed heavily. "I got a bad feeling about it."

Vegeta nodded. "Same, but it's nothing new."

Goten took out his phone to program his alarm, then pushed his shoes and backpack under the bed. "Maybe it's nothing, but better safe than sorry."

Vegeta mumbled his agreement through a yawn, and rubbed his eyes.

Goten took his place on the second pillow, and pulled up the covers. "Why do you put up with me?"

"Same reason why I put up with the cats," Vegeta mumbled drowsily.

"Kitsune would be glad you see all beings equally, but thanks."

They would only have about three hours of sleep left, so Goten wiggled himself beneath Vegeta's arm as comfortably as possible. The small relief brought them both to sleep within minutes.

✧

The time passed too quickly for the short slumber to do them much good, but Goten immediately shut off his alarm at the crack of dawn, hastily pulling on his sneakers before sliding on his backpack. He snuck a quick kiss and shook Vegeta's shoulder, who nodded, then quietly left out the window as per their routine.

✧

In the half second it took for Goten to reach his window, he found it closed and locked. 

Consterned, he took his rigged Swiss Army knife from his pocket, losing several seconds before slimming the lock open, and climbed in like a thief. And was greeted like one.

The sight of his mother and Bulma standing angrily by the other window nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"What the hell--!" he exclaimed, though his heart thudding dully in his ears left him no mystery of their presence.

"Hang on while I pretend to be surprised," Bulma began sarcastically.

"Huh?" Partly convinced that he was dreaming, the chill in the early morning air that matched the two women's glares told Goten that it was unfortunately quite real.

ChiChi was yet outraged beyond words, and Bulma continued coldly, "I guess you could have combed your hair and picked out the blanket fuzz first, but we know everything."

Goten froze, hoping to Kami that he'd misunderstood. "I got in late," he blurted.

“Save it!" ChiChi hissed through her teeth, her voice raising several octaves, "You were not with Ren, who by the way is worried about you. You were gone Kami knows where for three days! I was here since yesterday, after I overhead it all from your father. We saw you 'get in late', and where you went! How convenient, his window is right over there!"

"You heard what from Dad?!" Goten demanded. If he'd gone back on his word and told them...

Amidst a cacophony of yelling, Goku's overhead conversation with Trunks was repeated, along with Bulma's suspicions of the last few years.

"... I let you quit school, and for what?" ChiChi was yelling, "Here I thought you were doing so well, and what you were up to? Screwing that sonofabitch I never should have trusted! AND SINCE WHEN?! If you were a girl, you'd be knocked up. To think a son of mine would turn out to be a goddamn loser, and your father covered for you... I still can't believe it! Way to screw up your life, Goten!" She sneered at him with such contempt y that the concept of 'mother' vanished from his mind.

Goten stood motionless, looking from his mother's fury to Bulma's self-righteous posture, and snapped. Glaring at the latter, he seethed back, "Why don't you tell her about all the affairs you had behind Vegeta's back, long before I was even in the picture? Oh no, that would damage your reputation! I'm sure that was perfectly justified... Maybe you should worry about what I know about you!"

Bulma's face reddened with outrage at her turn. "We're talking about you! I'm an adult, you aren't!"

Goten rolled his eyes. "I was old enough to get killed in battle at seven, but I'm too young for a mate at seventeen."

ChiChi's fury was mixed with bewilderment. "Why, Goten? And spare me the excuses!"

“I'm not offering you any excuses. I love him," Goten replied simply, but his eyes narrowed indignantly at his turn. "There's nothing wrong with that, and I don't have to listen to this bullshit!"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "After all the years I treated you like family! But no, I'm just the evil bitch out to ruin your fun. I was trying to warn you not to get involved with him!"

“Yeah, I see," Goten challenged, "You don't want him, but you don't want anyone else to have him, either."

The two of them began yelling again, which woke the rest of the household.

The door to the room was knocked open and Vegeta strode in, fully dressed in his street clothes, and prepared for the confrontation. "Now you can insult me to my face, so go for it," he announced, his voice sounding unnaturally calm.

ChiChi gladly pounced on that. "So tell me more about your 'training' and how much progress Goten has made!" she yelled, warming up for a fresh verbal assault.

“That's true," Vegeta replied in his unnervingly calm voice, "Our relationship hasn't stopped his improvement."

"You know I'm not talking about training!" ChiChi hissed through bared teeth, "When did you start screwing him? When he was thirteen, like she said and didn't tell me?" She pointed her thumb at Bulma, as pissed off at her and Goku as at them.

Vegeta glared at them with disdain. "No, even I have my limits. But I see it doesn't matter what we say, because you'd rather believe the worst."

“Told ya," Goten muttered, his glare matching his mate's. Aloud, he informed them, "And no, neither of us twisted the other one's arm."

Having heard the commotion, Bra peeked into the room. "Mama?" she asked in confusion.

"Stay out there," Bulma firmly told her, motioning for Trunks to bring her away when she caught sight of him.

Trunks picked Bra up, but waved his arm in dismissal when his mother opened her mouth to speak to him. "I want nothing to do with it, nor those two," he announced coldly.

Ignoring them, ChiChi told Goten, "From now on, you're staying home! You're going nowhere we don't know about, and you're not to even speak to that bastard!" She turned to seethe at Vegeta, "And don't you even look at my son again! You're lucky I haven't called the cops already, and believe me, I will!"

Goten retorted snidely, "Rules and laws are only good if they can be enforced, which they can't. So both of you BACK OFF!" The dormant fury that boiled within him was dangerously close to volcanic proportions.

Bulma folded her arms. "Then let me spell it out for you. Either say goodbye now in front of us, or I'm pressing charges for statutory rape. Legally it is, because you don't have the right to consent for the next year."

That was the last straw. Flashes of ki crackled around him by his anger alone, and Goten's eyes blazed with hatred. "Go ahead, call the cops! Call the fire department! Call the fucking Marines if you want! None of you can do shit about it. We're outta here!"

ChiChi looked shocked as though he were possessed and had punched her, rendered speechless for the first time since any of them could remember.

Still unsurprised on her part, Bulma shoved an official-looking paper at Vegeta, and another at Goten. "That's what I thought. You both have exactly twenty-four hours to leave the property, and you're not to approach it or any of us who still live here within five hundred meters."

“We're gone in less than twenty-four seconds," Vegeta sneered and yanked the paper from her hand. He gave it a cursory glance, then dropped it at her feet. "And I don't need a fucking paper to issue the same warning to you - both of you. DON'T cross our path."

Goten pulled his backpack on again, and deliberately slid a possessive arm around Vegeta's waist. "C'mon, let's go," he said calmly to him, with a contemptuous sneer at them and Trunks.

“I see I didn't make myself clear enough," Bulma shot back hautily, showing her anger at last, "Trunks can do what he wants, but the restraining order also applies to Bra."

Vegeta looked at her as a person who'd clearly lost her mind, and Goten cut in, "That's bullshit! Fathers have custody rights as long as they haven't harmed the kids."

“Read it," Bulma told them, unmoved, "Having an affair, especially with a minor, is considered a bad moral example and character. That equals moral abuse and neglect, not counting the implications I could easily pin on him."

Vegeta grabbed the paper which Goten was scrutinizing for a single glance, and snorted. "We won't mention that lawyer's connections to the West mafia, of course."

Goten looked up. "I thought you were joking about that," he declared to Vegeta, who shook his head.

ChiChi looked troubled. Clearly Bulma had left out a few details in their heart-to-heart discussion.

The prince's calm façade turned to overt loathing. "You know exactly where you can shove that! You cannot tell me not to see my kid!"

Bra pushed past Trunks, and ran to clutch Vegeta's arm. "Papa?" Her large blue eyes were tearful and confused with the understanding of him leaving, and everyone being against one another.

Vegeta placed a hand on her head. "It's fine. You can see me anytime you want."

Bulma defensively pried Bra away. "Now would be a good time to you both to leave," she stated, but eyed them warily.

Watching her father and Goten, Bra burst into tears. "I wanna go with Papa!" She pushed herself down and ran back to him, but Trunks blocked her way and picked her back up. He whispered in her ear a promised consolation that she didn't understand yet and that it was a silly argument that would pass, but she was no fool.

"You spoke for yourself. I'll be back for you," Vegeta promised her, then reached into the hallway for his own bag. He did not look back, knowing them lucky to be human women with insufficient ki. "You'll see who has the last word." He left the room before extinguishing a deeply wishful ball of ki formed in his hand.

Goten sympathetically patted Bra's back. "I'll make sure you see your dad," he promised, then announced, "Goodbye, good riddance, and I'm changing my number." He followed Vegeta out the door, both trying not to hear the toddler's crying, and deliberately kicked it, left hanging by a single hinge.

"Wait!" ChiChi called after them, but it was too late, as both had taken to flight. She snapped out of the shock, her regret feeling even more sickening than her initial anger.

"Believe me, he'll be right back to his mama," Bulma confidently assured her, and lit a cigarette. 

ChiChi only sneered at her with the same contempt as had her son, and shoved the paper into her face. "Eat it!" she hissed, and grabbed her handbag from the nightstand.

"Where are you going?" Bulma asked, properly taken aback now that Vegeta and Goten had gone.

"Home, to the family I have left," she stated coldly, and strode out of the room.

Bulma hurried after her. "Wait, ChiChi, I can h--" she faltered. 

"You've done enough!" ChiChi growled in her face. She stalked out in purposeful strides, kicking the front door off its remaining hinge.

If everyone could agree on one thing, it was that for times of peace, things could not hardly get any worse.

-:-

The overcast sky looked as if colored with regret, pushed about by the gazes avoiding one another. It was a day not of beginnings or endings, but that eternal drone in between. The unruly wind in their hair seemed to echo the unsure nature of the times.

Goten and Vegeta flew back toward the sakura place, seething in cold silence. At such a time, words did not even seem possible.

The sound of gunshots near the edge of the forest below caught their attention, as there was no civilization around for miles. They paused, and curiously flew lower to investigate.

//Shit! Not again!// 

They looked at each other in confusion as neither had spoken, before seeing a familiar, golden-red blur flee for its life.

"Now what?" Goten muttered, and they landed between Kitsune and a large man running after him. The latter appeared to be a peasant in bib overalls and a baseball cap, armed with a shotgun.

"Stop there, ya blasted varmint!" the man bellowed, and fired again.

Gladly pouncing on the scapegoat, Vegeta blocked his way with the creepiest humorless smirk that Goten had seen since Majin Buu. "Why don't you put that down before you hurt yourself," he sneered at the man.

The latter's face turned red with outrage. "Get outta my way, boi!" he yelled, "That there varmint stoled a other one a' my chickens!" He fired again at Kitsune, who hid behind Goten.

//Impeccable timing,// the fox commented, out of breath from running.

“Who are you calling 'boy?'" Vegeta demanded indignantly, "I know that fox personally."

“Then you're responsible!" the farmer bellowed again, "You know how much it costs me to lose livestock? That's the third one this week. Look, it's still got it! Gimme back my chicken or you'll make a pretty vest for my wife, varmint!"

Vegeta glanced back. Indeed, Kitsune held a freshly killed chicken in his teeth by its neck, and white feathers were scattered in his wake.

//They have better food,// Kitsune declared, //Yesterday, I was so hungry I ate a taupe. A TAUPE! Do you know how revolting those are?//

"Probably," Vegeta reflected aloud.

"I bet you lose more money on ammo than chickens," Goten commented, and crossed his arms to watch the show.

"Quit yer babblin'! Either get the bill for my chickens, or get outta the way!" the farmer yelled at them, then reloaded for another shot. Kitsune ducked, more worried about being shot by accident, as the human did not seem too concerned about recoil.

Vegeta's smirk widened as he caught the fired cartridge between two fingers. Its owner turned pale and gaped at them. "Fly him back, and I'll take care of this clown," Vegeta told Goten.

Goten opened his mouth to argue, but the farmer exclaimed, "Fly? You kids drunk or somethin'?"

"No," Vegeta replied calmly, "I'll teach you how." He grabbed the man's shirt collar and lifted him off the ground with his feet dangling frantically. He shoved him off, and the man indeed flew through the air until he was out of sight, before he had a chance to make a sound.

It did little to appease his anger, as the man could not offer him a decent fight. The fight he'd expected from Kakarot, once again.

"No wonder you don't live long out here," he commented flatly, but the fox only gazed triumphantly over the hunt clasped in his jaws.

Goten examined Kitsune's chicken, and grimaced. "I'm glad I don't have to cook that."

"Isn't that place guarded?" Vegeta wondered aloud. 

//You mean the hound? That mutt's too lazy to breathe. I jump right over him,// Kitsune told them, and hautily flipped his tail.

It was too bad that neither Vegeta nor himself were in the mood to appreciate it, Goten reflected. 

-:-

After his meal, Kitsune washed his paws and muzzle, watching his Saiyan-blooded friends. Both sat in cold silence under the sakura tree, having rejected his greeting. Since their arrival, they'd barely spoken.

He padded curiously over to Goten, and slipped his head under his hand with his paws on his lap.

Goten scratched his ears, but stared with slitted eyes at nothing in particular. He wanted to feel sadness, pain, some proof of humanity within to tether him, but there was only disappointment and cold.

//What's going on?// Kitsune asked finally, //I'm glad you're back, but it looks like something's wrong.//

Goten scowled. "They found out. Now everyone hates us."

Kitsune's brow furrowed. //Oh.// He thought about it, knowing that humans were a strange, unpredictable breed. //There are same sex mates among us too, but nobody cares unless the population gets low,// he pointed out encouragingly.

Goten only slumped. "That should be the worst."

//Well… the female isn't your mate anymore, and you already gave her two young. Right, Vegeta ? And you and Goten are both big enough to mate,// Kitsune concluded, adding, //I'm a lot older than my wife, too. She's my second mate.//

"What happened to your first?" Vegeta asked.

//She's no more,// he closed the subject, //We don't talk about her.//

Vegeta nodded.

//Who knew about it and who's against it?// Kitsune wanted to know.

“So far, that we know of:" Goten listed, "Ren's cool, Bulma, Trunks, and my mom are pissed, Dad tolerates it, and Gohan and Videl are staying out of it like Piccolo."

//Piccolo is the large green Namek?// Kitsune recalled, imagining a being somewhat like the Green Giant.

They nodded. "Reminds me, I want to talk to Piccolo," Vegeta told them and stood, finding a way to blow off some restless steam.

"Want me to go with?" Goten asked doubtfully.

“No. Anything to add?"

Goten shook his head apathetically, and they watched as Vegeta flew off.

-:-

Catching sight of a familiar airborne figure, Piccolo glanced at Gohan. After a frantic phone call from ChiChi, the eldest Son brother had dutifully left work and flown out to the desert with the hope that he could help locate Goten's ki. It should be for Goku to see to such things, Piccolo thought critically, but Goku was right in the middle of it. 

Seeing Vegeta land near them, Piccolo knew that the problem was more serious than he'd thought.

Vegeta scowled suspiciously at Gohan, who was dressed in a suit and tie for work. "What are you doing here?"

"Probably the same as you," Gohan replied with a wary look in return. Presently, he had no idea what to think of the confirmed story, nor what to say to him.

"You should tell him what you told me," Piccolo said to Gohan, reading him like a book. He personally was glad to be through with what he felt was not his business, aside from his pupil's concern.

Gohan nodded. "How's Goten?" he asked Vegeta.

“Not happy," Vegeta replied sternly,  
Now what's going on?"

Gohan scratched his head uncomfortably. "My mother called me this morning, all upset. She wants Goten to stop by, and she's gonna sign his emancipation papers today."

"What is that?" Vegeta demanded, his suspicion growing at the mention of more papers.

“When a minor's parents legally recognize them as an adult," Gohan explained, and frowned. "Apparently you guys left before she could say anything."

"Because she yells before she thinks," Vegeta replied dryly, the metaphorical pot calling the kettle black, "What changed her mind all of a sudden?" It was most likely a trap, he thought.

“She doesn't want to lose Goten, obviously." Gohan frowned. "I still can't believe Bulma would do that. I'm not a lawyer, but she has no right to refuse you visits with Bra."

"She was probably bluffing out of anger," Piccolo reasoned.

"No, that paper was signed a month ago, and I know damn well she has no right," Vegeta snapped, "She ought to know better than to think it's going to stop me from seeing my own kid." Speaking of it reignited his fury, and he clenched his fists.

Gohan sensed it, and refrained from mentioning the rest. "I'll do whatever I can to keep the peace," he promised warily.

"The same way as your father?" Vegeta asked rhetorically, having kept the former's threat to himself.

“Well, it's a lot to get used to," Gohan admitted awkwardly, "But I guess you're my brother-in-law now." He did not look very pleased by the title. 

“I didn't ask you for anything," Vegeta made clear, "Do you know your mother talked to Goten like he was a worthless piece of shit?"

“She told me," Gohan replied soberly, "I know how it must have sounded, but it's because she panicked."

Vegeta snorted and folded his arms.

Gohan hesitated. "I want to see Goten, and so do Mom and Dad. We can meet where he wants, and it's nothing that can't be said to you. I hope he hasn't really changed his number. It's important that he sign the paper, like today."

“I don't tell him what to do," Vegeta pointedly informed him, "But I want to see that paper myself first, for my lawyer to read."

Gohan blinked. "Your lawyer?" he asked in confusion.

“Indeed. He can get it back to them tomorrow afternoon."

Vegeta looked pretty smug, Gohan thought, but glanced at his watch. "Listen, I gotta get back to work. I'll be at my parents' house this evening, so make sure Goten shows up. At least to sign the thing. And don't think you're unwelcome," he added awkwardly. 

“I'll tell him," Vegeta conceded, "That's all I can promise."

"One of you call me," Gohan insisted, then flew off.

When he'd gone, Piccolo observed, "You don't trust him."

“I trust no one," Vegeta affirmed stubbornly. "If you were me, you wouldn't, either."

Piccolo thought of how much he'd changed over the years, like himself. "Ever heard the expression 'If you think you can, you're right. If you think you can't, you're right'?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "And?"

“The same goes for trust," Piccolo continued, "Family and relationship things aren't my forte, but I think yours could benefit if you practice it. With everyone else as well as with Goten."

Vegeta looked no more clarified, and still on his guard. "You seem to know a lot about what you say you don't. Where do you really stand in all this?"

Piccolo exclaimed, "I don't understand any of it!"

"Neither do I," Vegeta underlined impatiently.

"It's happening anyway," Piccolo pointed out.

Vegeta leaned against a large rock overlooking a canyon. "They hate me because I should be telling him about the birds and the bees, not showing him."

“I see," Piccolo muttered to himself, "They're disappearing at an alarming rate. If these humans can't take care of their own planet, you're right to intervene."

“Piccolo."

“Right, you don't care. You'll care when the wrong species die out, and you become just another planet like one you swept under orders of the PTO."

“Piccolo!"

The tall Namek gave him an irritating look that suggested he knew something which he did not. "I've heard you talk to Goten before, when you thought no one could hear. It surprised me how easily your dialogue and behavior fit together. I guess you never really grew up, in a way. That must be why your age difference didn't shock me."

Vegeta stared at him indignantly. "What's your point?"

“The others make the mistake of over-humanizing you," Piccolo explained, "In most ways you with Saiyan blood adapted to Earth, but every being's nature will always be the way it is. It's normal for you to seek out your own kind in some way."

"I didn't ask them to understand," Vegeta stated flatly.

Piccolo was again reminded of training Gohan, when the small demi Saiyan hadn't the first clue of how to fight. "I don't see any harm in your relationship alone, but you are being a bit selfish by causing problems for everyone." 

Vegeta's snort revealed how much he really cared, but he frowned at the thought of Bra. "Maybe you should know that my lawyer has more clout than hers," he informed him airily. 

"I don't know anything about that," Piccolo replied, but eyed him suspiciously. "Wait a minute, Vegeta. What are you planning?" 

Vegeta only smirked humorlessly. "I'd rather the bitch see for herself," he concluded. 

"Whatever," Piccolo dismissed, though the look on the prince's face announced nothing holy. "But at least make Goten go see his parents tonight."

"I said I'll tell him," Vegeta called over his shoulder, then took to flight. 

Piccolo watched him leave with a scowl at the drama he'd been dragged into. It should not be his business, and he didn't like it. 

-:-

Flying back from the desert, Vegeta considered telling Goten that Piccolo knew nothing, except that he would find out, and it was best that they stick to the same story. The Namek had a point there, but he himself phrased it otherwise. They were in the same mess, and had to stick together. That was as much as he wanted to think about for the moment. 

Picking up Goten's presence midway between the desert and the sakura place, Vegeta landed questioningly.

"I could've sworn I felt Gohan's ki." Goten looked perplexed.

"He was there," Vegeta replied, and relayed the conversations among Gohan, ChiChi, Piccolo, and himself.

Goten listened behind a thinly polite veil, but his face had shut down.

"Well?" Vegeta asked impatiently after a long silence.

“She can go to hell," Goten retorted crisply, "They can all go to hell."

Vegeta had expected as much, but pointed out, "It doesn't matter if you trust them - I don't, either - but bring me that paper before your mother changes her mind again."

"What for?" Goten scowled.

"For my lawyer to read," Vegeta replied craftily.

"Your lawyer?" Goten raised a wary eyebrow.

"Yes, tomorrow morning I'll take it to him. All you have to do is go get the damned thing, and let me handle the rest."

Goten's scowl remained, but he watched him curiously. "How?" 

"Never mind, just do it."

"I'm not talking to her anymore. Gohan can bring it to me," Goten argued stubbornly. 

Vegeta turned his anger on Goten. "Signing that paper means that you're an adult. So man up, because you're going to sign it!"

Goten only scowled and folded his arms, like Vegeta. 

Sensing his thoughts, Vegeta added, "It's time to prove it to me. Now do I have your word that you'll go and do it?" 

"Vegeta, that's not fair!" Goten objected. 

Vegeta pulled him firmly by the ear. "Goten, for the last time--" he warned. 

"Ow! Fuck!" Goten bared his teeth furiously. "How dare you!?" he seethed, his teeth bared, "How dare you scold me like my mother! Fuck off!" 

Vegeta let go of his ear and instead yanked his face forward by the hair. "The same way you dare to compare me to her! I want that paper signed and in my hands, today. Unless you want to give up and go back there with your tail between your legs, you're doing it. If you don't think it's worth it, then go on your way, and you fuck off!" He shoved him off, making him stagger backward. 

Goten glared at him, sullen and cold at his ultimatum, but conceded, "Fine, you'll get it. But I'm not passing a second more after I do."

"I said you don't have to. Bring the damned paper, that's it," Vegeta concluded in exasperation. 

Goten remained sullen during their flight back, though eventually shifted his anger back to its origin. Vegeta was the reason why he was fighting, not his enemy, he thought guiltily. He could not stay angry with him, he acknowledged as it slowly dissipated, but began to wonder if it would always be so. There lingered a sore spot of resentment that had not yet closed, and would not any time soon. 

-:-

Back at the sakura place, the fox family ran to their friends for enthusiastic greetings. The five of them jumped up and down at their legs with joyful barks and squeaks to be petted.

Not minding dusty paw prints on his jeans, Goten grinned and knelt down for petting and hugs, giggling when they licked his face. "Yeah, we're back! We're back!" he exclaimed to match their heartful squeaks and yelps, and rolled on the ground to play with the kits.

Vegeta shook his head at the sight, that such a simple thing could make them so happy, but also knelt down to scratch their soft ears.

“This one's Kitsune's wife, Saki," Goten introduced one of the vixens, and of the others, "Her sister Lily, and the baby ones are Scamp and Violet."

The male kit named Scamp jumped onto Vegeta's shoulder to paw at his hair again, decidedly his new toy. 

"Cut it out," he told it, preferring Violet, who perched calmly on his knee.

//So it's true, you're staying?// Lily asked, her eyes shining hopefully.

"Yep, for good," Goten replied, but his smile faded.

//We heard about your families rejecting you,// Saki told them, //That's awful.//

//They'll get over it,// Kitsune assured her, //People are weird.//

Violet sensed Vegeta's grim thoughts of his own son and daughter, and sympathetically placed her head and paws on his arm.

It did not escape his attention that her eyes were the exact color of Bra's. “Why'd you name that one Kitsune?" Vegeta inquired, "They're all kitsune."

Goten shrugged. "I was smol."

"Your brain is smol." Vegeta glared upward at Scamp, who was chewing on his hair.

Ignoring him, Goten looked up at the overcast sky, frowning at the air pressure and the call of blackbirds. "It's gonna rain here too. We ought to set up the tent."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Is that how you think we're going to live?"

“No, but would you rather get caught in a downpour?" Crossly, Goten pulled back his camouflage at the base of the tree trunk, but looked curiously at Vegeta's extended palm. "What's that?"

“A capsule house," Vegeta explained, "Courtesy of my space program division. We made lots of improvements since the original ones."

Goten inspected the capsule. "A house?" he asked doubtfully, having planned on building a cabin himself.

“Most of them were sold. I never thought I'd need it." Vegeta looked around at the landscape. "You want it set up here?"

Goten looked up from its unfolded blueprint with a rough calculation. 

"Yeah, but on the Northwest side."  
He and the foxes watched as Vegeta flung the capsule to the center of the sector, stupefied when a modestly sized house stood next to their tree. 

He approached it, carefully testing the resistance of its off-white paneling, while the foxes cautiously sniffed at the magic new house. "What about the foundation?" he worried.

“See for yourself," Vegeta replied, "It isn't made to resist an earthquake, but it will stay up under any gravitation or atmosphere."

Goten smiled for the first time that week. "Can we go in?"

Vegeta retrieved its keys from the letterbox, and opened the front door.  
He followed Goten inside, also seeing the actual house for the first time. 

There was a small living room, kitchen, bedroom, bath and laundry rooms, and a spare room which could be used as they saw fit. The central curved hallway led to the back door where a small patio could be set up, and Vegeta planned to add a training room.

The living room and bedroom windows looked out at their sakura tree, whose branches now barren of petals reached to gently graze the panes, as though to say, 'don't forget me.'

The house smelled new. Its walls and furniture were plain and utilitarian, but it contained everything they needed. It waited only to be lived in, and adorned with memories that would in time become woven in.

Goten's eyes shone as he took in what was for him a luxury. Our house, he thought in wonder at the meaning.

Vegeta set aside the rolled painting Goten had given him, which he would show him later.

Goten stood next to Vegeta by the window, watching the rain fall. It was a fresh, cleansing rain with claps of thunder between short pauses, not the dreary gray kind of the past week.

Vegeta caught Goten's glance, and returned his tentative smile. It was sad, and it was infinite, as most beginnings are. But it was their beginning, for better or worse.

-:-

The Sons' small house seemed empty and lifeless to ChiChi and Goku, who sat wordlessly on the couch while their untouched cups of tea had turned cold.

ChiChi slumped with her head propped on her hands, her eyes still red and swollen from a tearful morning. In one fell swoop, she'd lost who would always be her baby, and she'd lost… Had she 'lost' Vegeta? He'd been like part of the furniture, yet he was family who had always taken care of them as their prince, just as his father had taken care of his people as king. Yet, once he'd humbly thanked her for a plate for food. He did have a code of honor, almost like that of a samurai. What had changed since she'd learned of their… thing? She should have called time out and spoken to them when she'd cooled off. 

No less forlorn, Goku's arms were folded in silence. He'd given up on wondering what he could have done differently, as futile as the thought was.

Gohan had left a few hours ago to see Piccolo, and hopefully find Goten.

“I'm sorry about this morning," ChiChi finally mumbled, "You didn't deserve that."

Goku blinked at hearing an apology from her after her expected anger. "It's understandable," he conceded, "I should have talked to them before."

"I can't tell Goten he's welcome here and Vegeta is not," ChiChi reflected, innocently pushing the cannon of her AR-15 under the couch with her foot. "Goten never spoke like that to me before! I'm not dumb enough to think he'll change his mind, but if I give him his freedom, maybe we won't lose him. If I don't, I know we will, because he'll just take it. All he ever does is take, and I think he did the same with Vegeta." 

"You changed your mind about it?" Goku asked in confusion. 

“Not at all!" ChiChi exclaimed indignantly, but added, "I can't believe I thought Bulma was a good friend," she lamented dully, "She doesn't give a damn about Goten, or us, or even about her own daughter. All she wants is her personal revenge. But for what, since she and Vegeta split years ago? She told that to Videl. I didn't know about her affairs or her corrupt lawyer, either. She's no better than the woman who stole money from the company."

Goku frowned. "I never saw her like that before."

“Well, I'm not gonna let her destroy our family," ChiChi announced, and stood. "Will you go with me to Satan City?"

Goku looked up. "If you want. Where at?"

“To see our lawyer, and sign Goten's papers," she reminded him, and picked up her shawl and purse. "If he holds a grudge, we tried. Maybe at least he won't hate me anymore."

Goku smiled thinly at the spark of hope. "Just splash some water on your face and let's go." He waited with the front door open, and followed her to the car. 

-:-

The visit to the Sons' attorney had not taken long, thanks to their family ties to Hercule Satan.

Goku and ChiChi were back home with the signed paper by early afternoon, grimly satisfied.

“You'll have time to go see Trunks," ChiChi commented, but worried, "Are you sure it's safe to tell him about his future self?"

“That's why I didn't before," Goku replied, "But he knows something's weird. He actually met him when he was a baby, and nothing happened."

"I guess." ChiChi did not really know, though she had her own concerns.

Goku was not supposed to disclose that to anyone, but it was the more normal thing to explain. Also, if there were a paradox, there would be a witness. The rest was water under the bridge, anyway. 

-:-

It did not take Goten and Vegeta long to pick up food for their next two meals, with extra meat for the foxes. 

After shoveling more of his own work onto his assistant's back, Gohan had telephoned Goten from work. He'd insisted that he return to their parents' house that night, as had Vegeta. Goten was left in a very irritable mood after the day's events, added to it Gohan's condescending lecture. 

After his visit to the Sons' home, ChiChi had insisted on knowing that Goten had a proper place to live. She had assigned that task to Gohan, who would return with them to see their new house. They hadn't planned on revealing their location to anyone, but they would have to, sooner or later. He had time, he thought on landing, but not much. 

Kitsune was waiting for them, excitedly flipping his tail at the smell of fresh meat. 

They'd barely had time to set down their shopping bags when a low, snarling growl came from the bushes beside the house. They saw the flash of a plush, silvery tail, whose owner thought better of its attack at sensing the Saiyans' presence. 

//You see?// Kitsune exclaimed,   
//We can't go anywhere without those renegades trying to attack us!//

"Calm down. Where are the others?" Goten asked, watching the tall grasses switch as the wolf in question high-tailed it to safety.

//I told them to stay in the den until I get back,// Kitsune replied,   
//The renegades are the only ones that didn't learn the first time.//

"Wolves are your natural predators," Vegeta reasoned impatiently.

“Those ones are outcasts for a reason. The normal ones can't stand them," Goten told him, "I'm not sure what to do though."

“So eliminate them," Vegeta suggested, "Since I know you won't, you could take him back on the way."

Goten glanced at his watch. "No time. Why don't you just bring him inside, since you're staying here."

Vegeta sighed in resignation, in no mood for more pointless arguing. "Alright, but hurry up."

“Cool," Goten sighed with relief, pointedly adding under his breath, "Watch him."

Vegeta opened the door for Kitsune, who rushed in with him and the groceries, and they watched Goten fly off before he closed it.

After he packed up the groceries, Vegeta warily eyed the fox. "I have to get some training in. If you, erm..." He picked up an outdated newspaper and unfolded it on the kitchen floor. "... Meet your new latrine, and don't break anything or make a mess."

//I won't.// Kitsune was decidedly offended, but kept it to himself. He knew what the alpha Saiyan meant by training, and given his mood, it was best for them all that he do so. //How long are you going to take?//

Vegeta glanced at the wall clock, estimating enough time for a quick shower afterward before Goten returned with Gohan. "A couple of hours."

//Aw man.// Kitsune slumped. //But I got nothing to do.//

“So find something," Vegeta settled in exasperation, "I'll just be outside."  
The latter opened a cupboard where their camping dishes were kept, all they had at the moment, then set a bowl of water and a plate of meat on the floor's opposite corner.

The creature even talked like Goten, Vegeta thought, but it was intelligent, he figured, and took his sports bag from the hallway. "Behave yourself," he warned before letting himself out the back door.

-:-

When Alpha Saiyan left, Kitsune flopped on the floor with a sigh. He thought of Saki, with Lily and the kits in the den. He wasn't worried about the young sneaking out, as their mother and aunt were constantly vigilant, and they dreaded leaving the den now because of the renegades. It angered him that the little ones whimpered in their sleep, and he was not strong enough to defeat their enemies.

That was it, he was angry beyond measure. As they had to be more on guard than usual to avoid crossing them, food had become scarce. The bastards were capable of waiting for their hunting time to spring an attack, knowing them to be weakened with hunger. Twice he'd risked stealing a chicken at the farm several miles away to feed the family, and once for himself. Goten, now also Vegeta, brought them food since they were their friends. Still, it wasn't easy getting used to a new person.

It was useless to think about it, so Kitsune occupied himself by exploring the new house. So this was how people lived. Pretty much, well, in a box, that suited not this fox.

He ate some of the meat set out for him, though he did not care for ground beef. He could smell more food kept in sturdy compartments in the kitchen, but he could not get to it no matter how hard he worked trying. The doors to the bedroom and utility rooms blocked his passage with the same result.

The living room contained softer box-like objects that were almost comfortable to sit on, but not quite. He understood the purpose of the main entry doors and windows, as fragile as the former were, but the ones blocking the passage between rooms would not do.

Decidedly, this house needed some work. Vegeta had told him to find something to do, and there was plenty.

-:-

Swallowing his dread, Goten made a point of politely knocking on the door of his parents' house. He could feel the thick tension that hovered from within, expecting nothing else. 

ChiChi opened the door with equal trepidation, her face set in a grim line. "So now you knock here," she stated flatly, both knowing that she would have said the same if he hadn't. 

"I guess you have a paper for me to sign," Goten said plainly, getting to the point. 

ChiChi pointed to the said paper, which waited on the coffee table. "And that's all you have to say," she commented, folding her arms. Unsurprised, she noted Vegeta's absence. 

"Guess you won't be needing what's under the couch," Goku added, studying Goten as though for the first time, not exactly in a friendly manner. 

"Pretty much," Goten replied, and picked up the multi-paged legal paper set out. "Where do I sign?" 

With her mouth pinched, ChiChi showed him three places, and one for his initials. 

Goten duly signed, noticing Gohan standing behind their father. 

"Goten, I think you can understand our concern that you have a decent place to live," Gohan repeated to him, "You know I'm neutral in all this, so I hope you don't mind me going back with you to see."

Goten stood upright. "Since you'll probably be our only visitor, I guess so."

A long, awkward silence passed before Gohan stated, "If that's all you're going to say, we should be going before it gets dark." 

Having expected as much, ChiChi left the room without a word. 

"Wait a minute," Goku cut in, "Goten, a word with you for a second." It was not a request, spoken in the same tone he used before an apprehended fight. 

Goten frowned, but followed his father outside. 

"You don't think you're being selfish in all this?" Goku began coldly. 

"No more selfish than when you married Mom," Goten replied, unphased, "Why did you cover for us if that's what you think?" 

"Fuck that!" Goku took hold of his T-shirt collar and yanked him forward. "You don't even care enough to make peace with your own mother? What the fuck kind of ungrateful whelp did I raise!?" 

Goten was startled enough to listen. It was the first time he'd heard his father say 'fuck'. Still, he held to his pride to retort, "After the way she treated me? She's the one who should apologize. Unless it's because you wanted Vegeta for yourself." There, it was said. 

"No, I don't, and don't change the subject!" Goku glowered at him. "You didn't have to upset your mom that way."

Sensing the forthcoming ugliness, Gohan cut in, "Excuse me, but we should be going. Videl hates when I'm late for dinner."

"Fine with me," Goten agreed coldly, and stuck the rolled up paper into his jacket pocket. 

Gohan mouthed the word 'later' to their father, and took off to catch up with Goten. 

They flew in silence for awhile, then Gohan observed, "I knew it would be out in the middle of nowhere."

"The more the better." Goten had calmed, but wondered to himself if Vegeta was right, that he should not trust his brother, either. Aloud, he reminded him, "Don't you tell anyone where we live."

"I said I won't." Gohan followed him over the complicated route of the countryside, and eventually landed with him at the sakura place. He was indeed surprised to see an actual house in the small clearing. 

Goten looked around, following Vegeta's ki to the woods behind the house, and led Gohan to where he was still training. "I thought you were going to take a shower?" Goten asked. 

"I didn't see the time pass," Vegeta replied, curiously watching Gohan. "So you see, we have a house."

Gohan nodded expectantly. Vegeta led them to the front door and opened it, then stopped in his tracks. "What the fuck!" he exclaimed, looking around incredulously. 

Goten and Gohan followed him in, and their jaws dropped in silence at the mess that greeted them. 

The beige living room furniture was no longer recognizable. Tunnels had been dug into every piece, where large springs stuck out, and stuffing was all over the floor. Two windows were broken, and more tunnels had been dug into the wood under each door within the house. The few objects placed on tables and counter tops were knocked down. The trash bins were knocked over with the bags torn open, and their contents were strewn everywhere. Claw marks were carved into the kitchen cabinets, and almost nothing was left intact. 

"YOU!" Vegeta yelled at Kitsune, who tilted his head. 

"You have a pet fox?" Gohan asked incredulously. 

Vegeta glared daggers at Kitsune. "He's not a pet. I should have known: if it isn't supposed to talk, don't trust it." 

Goten face-palmed. "I told you to watch him!" 

"You said to bring him in!" Vegeta shot back accusingly. 

"Vegeta, you left him alone with nothing to do." Goten looked around, pained at the shambles in the house he'd been so proud of. 

//You don't like it? No offense, but your house sucked. It had no tunnels,// Kitsune declared, having thought they would be pleased. 

"I should have thrown you to the wolves!" Vegeta's teeth were clenched as tightly as his fists. 

"Don't be so hard on him, Vegeta," Goten resigned, "You don't know what their lives are like."

"He's a wild animal," Gohan pointed out uselessly, "Why'd you leave him alone in the house, then get mad at him for being a fox?" 

Vegeta only turned disgustedly, and folded his arms. Kitsune leaned his head toward Gohan, sniffing his vaguely familiar scent. 

"Aww, I bet he's a good boy," Gohan sympathized, and leaned down to scratch his ears. Kitsune rolled over with squeaky purring sounds. 

"Uhm… sit down?" Goten offered helplessly. 

Gohan chose an armchair with minimal damage, and Goten carefully sat down on the shredded sofa. 

"I'm not sitting on the tunnel-seat," Vegeta stated, as little choice as there were. 

"You're the one who didn't watch him," Goten repeated, which earned him another glare. 

"I'm not getting a spring in my butt!" Vegeta stood sullenly with his arms folded. 

"Goddammit," Goten muttered under his breath, then stalked into the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. 

Rather than say anything to Vegeta, Gohan was busy playing with Kitsune, who had curled upside down on his lap with his mouth opened, making happy squeaks.

//Never mind Vegeta. He's a grump, but he'll get over it,// Gohan assured the fox. 

"Quit talking about me like I'm not there," Vegeta snapped, making Gohan look up with surprise. 

"You can talk to animals, too?" Gohan blurted. 

"What of it?" Vegeta demanded, making Gohan feel sorry for Goten that night. 

"All that can be repaired," Gohan smoothed over, or tried, but gave up and played with the fluffy creature. 

A few moments later, Goten appeared with three camping cups full of tea, which he placed on the chewed-on coffee table. "We don't have real dishes yet. Gohan, don't mention this to Mom."

"I won't," Gohan assured him, caught between scissor blades as it were. 

Vegeta picked up a phone book dated from the previous year to look up Capsule Corp's repair company, but a large hole had been chewed into the side where the telephone numbers were listed. Disgustedly, he threw it to the floor and stalked back outside, slamming the door. Its shredded curtain flapped in strings over its window. 

-:-

When he returned home, Gohan was greeted by the smell of freshly baked chocolate. Wearily, he sat down in his armchair, but looked up as Videl brought him a hot cup of tea and a plate of brownies. 

"I made these," Videl told him as she set them down. After a long day's work, it wasn't much to ask. "Being ChiChi's peacemaker has to be more tiring than actually working," she sympathized. 

"You're right about that," Gohan sighed, but gladly helped himself to a handful of brownies, still warm from the oven, "Now I feel sorry for my assistant." 

"What was your mom so frantic about?" Videl asked as she sat down in her own armchair. 

Gohan gave her a short rendition of the day's events, seeing her alarm at the paper ChiChi had signed for Goten. 

"What?! Has she lost her mind?" Videl demanded, "She's giving them her benediction!" 

Gohan ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. "It doesn't change anything, Videl. She just doesn't want any trouble in the family." He frowned. As he'd been brought up, Bulma was an adult he must respect; it was 'yes, Ma' am' and 'no, Ma' am.' Now, however… "Concerning Vegeta… I never would have thought Bulma would be so bitchy. Goten's right, she's made it her mission to castrate him."

"Now you're defending them, too," she stated dryly, "As selfish as you said yourself they're being." 

"They are, but I don't want any trouble for them, either." Gohan toyed with the idea of moving out to the desert with Piccolo. 

"But--" 

"Videl, I don't want to hear any more about it." Gohan stood in irritation, and moodily stalked off to find Pan. 

Videl watched him leave, then pulled out her telephone from her purse. She clicked on a familiar number and waited. After a few moments' pause, she began, "Bulma, it's me. You're not going to believe this…" 

-:-

April 20th~

Despite having a proper living space now, Goten and Vegeta still sat outdoors a lot. Goten could hang out with his animal friends who felt safe with them, and it would be a cold day in HFIL before the prince would allow a non-domestic creature back in the house.

Goten had returned from a visit with Ren that evening, and dusk had settled over the forest. Though he'd calmed somewhat, his mood remained bleak.

Most of his clothes looked two sizes too big for him, Vegeta observed as he pulled on his gray hoodie. It made him look inoffensive, but Vegeta knew the difference.

Both sat in dull, heavy apathy, finding nothing to say. They'd anticipated the two women's reactions, and Vegeta gave not a fuck. He even felt a sense of relief to be done with it.

What really bothered him was the way Trunks had turned against him, and that Bra cried because she wanted to see him. The accusations that his relationship with Goten suddenly made him a threat to her, made him lose the little respect he had left for the woman as the mother of his children. It was his right, everyone assured him; on the old planet, there would have been no question of that.

Guessing his thought, Goten promised again, "I'll do whatever it takes for Bra. Bulma's just being her bitchy self."

"I know." Another heavy silence followed. Finally, Vegeta asked to change the subject, "So what about your human friend?" It was still not clear exactly what their relationship entailed, he thought. It didn't seem like the friends with benefits kind as he'd suspected, but he still found it odd. She'd been sly enough to go along with Goten's personal plot to make him see the need to fight for him in a sense.

“I just had to talk to someone who isn't against me," Goten admitted, "She said to tell you hi."

"Hmph." Vegeta folded his arms moodily, and the tense silence returned. It was true that the whole Z-gang had heard by now, and they had no steady allies. 

"Man, this sucks," Goten muttered to himself, and got up to drag over his backpack.

Vegeta watched him take out a large bag of snacks, a lighter, and what appeared to be a cone-shaped cigarette, and scowled. "Don't you start smoking too. That's disgusting."

"Nope, good ol' Mary Jane," Goten replied. He sat next to him against the tree trunk and twisted off its sealed paper tip.

"I never know when you're serious," Vegeta commented flatly, and watched as he lit the joint, filling the air with a pungent, woodsy-scented smoke.

The demi Saiyan took a few drags until he spaced out between loopy fits of giggling, then handed it to Vegeta.

The latter gave it a suspicious look. "What does it do?"

Goten hesitated, wondering if this counted as peer pressure. "You don't have to," he assured him, "Just if you want, like a snack. It's weird at first, but it gets better."

“Like many things," Vegeta reflected dryly, but scowled. "You think I can't handle it."

"No," Goten back-pedaled quickly, "I meant--"

Vegeta took the blunt from him, and inhaled a generous lungful as he'd seen people smoke cigarettes. He immediately regretted it, and bent over coughing so hard his eyes watered. "Fuck... it's terrible!" he managed between coughing up a painful taste and odor.

Concealing his amusement, Goten handed him a water bottle. "Not so much."

Vegeta gulped down a large portion of the water. When his throat quit burning, he asked, "What do you get from it?" He reached into the bag of snacks, finding a mint. It soothed his throat, and partly covered the odd taste.

“Everyone's different," Goten replied, "Mostly it calms you, and changes your thoughts. It could make you laugh, get hungry, or horny. Too much will make you numb. But you'll sleep well, and no addiction." He took out the bag of mints. "You found my trick. I don't like the taste, either."

Vegeta's throat felt better, and Goten's mood had considerably lifted. Maybe his own would, too. He relit the joint and carefully inhaled a small drag. It was tolerable now, so he smoked a bit more until his mind became fuzzy, and passed it back.

Goten was quiet for the next several minutes as they smoked, contemplating the brilliant nature of infinity.

At a wave of dizziness and nonsensical, racing thoughts, Vegeta propped his head on his bent knees. "What's happening to me?" he demanded flatly.

Stifling another giggle, Goten took the joint. "Let the weird thoughts go by, and wait for the good parts."

Vegeta cast him a bleary look, imagining what his own father would say if he saw his heir thus. "Are you mocking me?"

"No." Goten looked surprised at the question, but explained, "Just keep still until they pass. You'll see, it's worth it."

As though on cue, Vegeta's mind calmed. It was similar to a sleepy state, and his thoughts became more interesting. The heavy, melancholic tone of the day had faded, and no longer mattered. Why could he not see this way all the time? It was also Goten's voice which had that effect.

Instinctively, he reclined on the grass as was their habit. Goten followed suit, and took his place heads opposite him. They often had their deepest conversations thus, now looking up at a night sky instead of a light blue one. Yet, the stars traced their paths across the sky as did the clouds. It was a darker hue of blue now, but there was only pleasant darkness in this place.

"All okay?" Goten asked lightly.

"Nice enough." Vegeta looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky, and laid himself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world.

"How nice?" Goten reached back for his hand.

Vegeta accepted it. "We'll see."

They remained that way for a long time. It was the simpler moments that Vegeta missed. If the truth be told, his dread that Goten would become jaded was possibly the real reason why he'd wanted to wait.  
"What even happened with us?" he wondered aloud, realizing that they hadn't talked much since they'd left their place weeks ago. It didn't matter what they talked about, and Goten's voice was low and calm. It was comfortable.

Goten thought of the subject he'd always sidestepped. "You remember now what happened when we had the blizzard, right?"

"Hn." Now, the subject did not seem to require any defense as it had before.

"You wanted me to stay with you that night. What did you really think?" He'd been shivering cold and out of it, Goten recalled, and would not have accepted it on a clear head. Vegeta had not seen him in the way he did now, but he must have liked him in some way.

The prince's gaze was fixed on Venus, which glowed brightly by the waxing crescent moon. Over time, his memory of the incident had partially returned, and he'd been glad that Goten stayed. 

The demi Saiyan held something pure in him, which he'd never encountered before. Much like a first snowflake, which he'd offered only to him. Vegeta frowned. "If they think I want to ruin you, nothing could be farther from the truth. I don't want you to change."

"Then I won't." Goten traced his powerful fingers thoughtfully. "I couldn't forget it. It was like I belonged there with you. I didn't want to see it, but I think I loved you already."

"You think," Vegeta repeated amusedly.

"You didn't answer." Goten relit the joint with his free hand.

"It was nice," Vegeta agreed. His scope of words began to blur, he noticed as they finished smoking.

Goten poked the roach into his empty soda can, then curled up beside Vegeta with one arm curved tight around his waist.

"What's that for?" Vegeta remained still for a moment, then slowly traced his face and hair, as though for the first time. The small thrill seemed unusually intense, surely the pot going to his head.

"Because I can." Goten buried his face against his neck, and remained still.

Yes, they could. Vegeta was still as well, enjoying the gentle euphoria while Goten held his limp form tighter beneath him to kiss him long and hard.

As Vegeta disliked being rushed, it was probably not a good time to tell him he was wanting more, Goten thought. Then again, it was not an easy thing to hide while he was pressed full length against him, as terribly exciting as it was to feel them both harden thus.

But Vegeta's arms and left leg wrapped encouragingly around him. That felt good. 

Goten's kiss and strokes became more aggressive, his eyes almost crossing to feel Vegeta's hand stroke his rigid length through his thin sweatpants. 

"I want to fuck, but I don't want to move." Vegeta's voice slurred a little, but he didn't seem to care.

"I'll take care of that." Goten's eyes darkened with lust and his tongue slid aggressively into his mouth. With a soft, muffled groan, Vegeta lifted his leg higher for more, his gaze softening in a puzzled-looking way. 

"You want it?" Goten's voice was dark and sultry as he slid one hand under his waistband to lightly trace his arousal through his undershorts with his fingertips. 

Vegeta nodded, his back arching for more while he stroked his back and hair. He knew what he meant, and hell yes he did. With a dark smirk, Goten waited for his partner's wetness to leak before rubbing the sensitive nerve that drove him crazy. 

Was it normal for foreplay to be so intense? Surely so, after having no peace for so long, and being lit. His breathing ragged, Vegeta felt his sweatshirt and pants being slowly pulled off. The night air was cool on their legs, a stark contrast to the heat of yearning skin. 

Goten paused to gently stroke his soft skin and hard muscles of his arms and chest. That felt so intense, it made his head spin. 

Goten moved down to remove Vegeta's undershorts with deliberate slowness, knowing his freed erection and balls were throbbing and heavy with raw need. Forcefully, Goten pinned his hips down and his tongue went to work, slowly until he wrenched an impatient groan from him. If he were not so impatient himself, he would have drawn it out, but heatedly engulfed as much into his mouth as would fit. 

Vegeta remained as he was, lying on his back and enjoying it while Goten did all the work. That's it, he realized with a faint smile, and let Goten have the power, in quest of something better. The real power, though not in the usual way. He was aware of Goten's fingers sliding in and out to prepare him, meeting no resistance. 

It was an intense thrill for Goten to experience him getting off, all from his own doing. Almost as good as getting off himself. He did not want to stop, but for them both to get off thus, and be glad later. He hoped Vegeta understood that. 

Except that Goten brought him only to the edge of climax, and back down just enough to draw out the pleasure. Vegeta liked when he did that. It satisfied some part of him he wasn't familiar with. 

All Vegeta himself could recall was a blur of ecstasy, and that he needed the rest now… 

Goten kissed him sweetly, and in the next motion slid into him hard. Vegeta flinched at the pain, which he ceased to notice as Goten's shaft hit his magic place with each thrust. 

At some point, Vegeta found himself turned facedown as Goten repeatedly slammed into him while forcefully pinning down his wrists. He knew that he was probably going to regret it the next day, though he was far from caring right now. He only groaned at the blur of pleasure, again thinking of the way Goten's painting had so perfectly captured the sensation. He clenched fistfuls of grass, groaning softly at the blur of pain and pleasure as they neared the peak. There was only an intense relief as they spent themselves, then went limp on the soft grass beneath them, still riding out the high of drug-aided afterglow. 

He chose me, Goten realized with something like wonder. Despite all the grief that was their price, Vegeta had left behind at least material ease for the uncertainty with Goten. At least that was how others saw it, though Goten knew better. It was at least a good way to end the day. 

-:-

The next morning, ChiChi answered the door to an authoritative knock. She opened the door to a police officer, whose stereotypical hard-boiled face was set in a grim line. 

"Good morning, Ma'am," he announced briskly, "I'm here to speak to… Son Goten," he read from a paper. 

"He isn't here, and we don't know where he is," ChiChi began, then face-palmed. "Now what has he done?" 

"According to this report, he is a minor dating an adult," the officer replied in a gritty voice, "For the charges that are being pressed, I encourage him to testify against his partner. If he doesn't, that will make him a juvenile delinquent." 

ChiChi's mouth opened soundlessly. She'd read in many novels the phrase her mind reeled, which was exactly what hers was doing just then. She took hold of herself to inform him, "No, he won't, because his father and I signed his emancipation papers. He's a legal adult now." 

"According to the plaintiff's testimony, this started when he was only thirteen. That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

Thirteen… Remembering the collective argument, ChiChi's paled face turned red with anger. She hadn't thought of that, but apparently Bulma had. None of them could go back in time to sign a new paper. "That's a lie! And who you're delivering that paper for is a goddamn liar!" 

The officer shrugged indifferently as he placed the paper in her hand. "I'm a father myself, Ma'am. Think about it." He adjusted his cap and walked away, leaving her plenty to think about. Despite her own disapproval, at that moment she hated Bulma so much that she saw red, among other novelistic euphorisms. Her dispute with Goten and Vegeta faded in favor of saving her family. 

Quickly she picked up the phone to dial Goten's number. At the other end, his cheerful voice announced, "Yo. Son Goten here, you know how this works." She only bit her lip and hung up, her mind racing to find a way to tell him. Would that involve an apology? 

-:-

The next day saw Vegeta even more aggravated as he incredulously looked over the repair bill. The repair team from CC Space Division had just left, and Goten waited quietly. 

At length, the latter proposed, "I'll pay half of it." 

"No, you won't, we're saving that," Vegeta reminded him, and rubbed an exasperated hand through his hair. 

"You're right, it was my fault," Goten gave in, as he usually did over matters he deemed unimportant. 

Vegeta scowled at his vague memory of the night before. He'd awoken in the middle of the night to find the baby vixen named Violet curled up next to him, still awake. 

'What are you doing here?' Vegeta had asked sleepily, still a bit stoned from the mysterious plant. He'd looked around, finding no sign of the adult foxes. 'Do you have a death wish?' 

//Yes,// Violet had replied sadly, //Will you help me?//

Vegeta had frowned, slowly awakening. 'How?' 

//You know. Kill me.// Violet had hidden her face against Vegeta's arm. 

'Goten would have a slight problem with that,' Vegeta had replied dryly, but wondered at such a request from from the small kit whose bushy tail still stuck upright like a kitten's. 'Why?' 

//All I do is cause problems,// she'd explained grimly, //And all we do is fight just to survive. It sucks. I hoped the wolves would eat me.//

She reminded Vegeta a lot of Bra, and suddenly he was angry. How could such a small creature be suicidal? He'd thought for a moment and replied, 'Tell you what… tomorrow I'll kill those wolves.'

Violet's large blue eyes blinked. //You'd do that for me?//

'Consider it done,' Vegeta promised, 'If you stop this nonsense about wanting to die.'

He'd talked to the small kit for a long moment before he flew her back to their den. He'd gone back to sleep, but remembered his promise. 

Now, he handed the bill to Goten with impatience. "Listen, I have to see my lawyer this morning, and it's far from here. 

Goten opened his mouth, but closed it when they caught sight of a low flying helicopter hovering above. Its owner landed, and Android 17 stepped out to watch them quizzically. He wore his shirt with MIR printed on it, with two armbands with 'ranger' stamped importantly on them. 

"I thought that was you, Vegeta," he commented. 

" 'The hell are you doing here, cyborg?" Vegeta snapped impatiently, glancing at Goten's watch. 

"Working," 17 replied as the two Saiyans watched him warily. "This forest is out of my jurisdiction, but I've heard there are pochers planning to take it over." 

"That explains your outfit," Goten observed, "But you're right." He quickly relayed the local events. 

17 nodded. "Gohan?" he guessed doubtfully. 

"I'm his brother, Goten. There are also some renegade wolves trying to kill our foxes." 

17 thought for a moment before proposing, "I can take the wolves back to my forest. Their population back home is awfully low, and my wife will be happy." 

"Your wife?" Vegeta exclaimed. 

"It's a long story," the Android replied, seeing their hurry, "Guess I came at a bad time?" 

"Yes," Vegeta stated, rolling Goten's paper into his inside jacket pocket, "We live here, and I'm off to see my lawyer." With that, he took to flight, heading East. 

"You said you could get those wolves out of here?" Goten asked hopefully. 

17 nodded. "I still don't know what you're living out here for." 

"Also a long story." Goten slumped. "Everyone hates us because of our relationship."

They walked toward the wolves' habitat, and Goten ended up telling him the whole story. He paused. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this." 

17 whistled through his teeth. "I see now. What a mess. And Vegeta should have the right to see his daughter." 

Kitsune appeared, having kept his eye on the stranger. //Really, you'll get them away from us?//

//Of course,// 17 replied confidently. 

"You can talk to animals, too?" Goten asked. 

"Since always," 17 replied, and saw the wolves in question. //Listen to me,// he told them, to the point, //How would you like to move to another forest?//

//Why?// one of them asked suspiciously. 

"You're outcasts here," 17 reminded them, "In my forest, you can make a new start." 

//How could you bring us?// the leader asked, turning toward the others for a quick discussion. 

"I can bring you in my helicopter," 17 explained, adding,"If you bite me, you'll just break your own teeth."

The Alpha male turned toward the others, who agreed. 

"Thanks, 17," Goten said, relieved at least for that. 

//Yeah, thanks,// Kitsune added, deciding that the Android was trustworthy. 

"No problem. And I have an idea. The restraining order applies to you and Vegeta, but not to me. With the help of one of your foxes, we can get a message to Bra."

Goten caught on, and smiled. He tied a string around Violet's neck, and attached a message hastily written in large, neat capital letters. 

17 opened the door of his helicopter to invite the wolves into the back, and the front for Violet to sit with him. "Good luck to you, Goten," 17 bade, knowing that he and Vegeta needed it. 

Goten waved as 17 took to flight, glad to have found an ally. 

It was one less problem, which should be their biggest one. It was true that no one could stop them, but they could make their lives an annoying hell. Goten could not shake a premonition that their problems had just begun. 

-:-

When the process server had gone, ChiChi rushed back into the house and picked up the phone. She clicked on Goten's number, then waited impatiently. His carefree voice replied on the answering machine. Cursing, she hung up and tried again with the same result. She did not know Vegeta's number, and she had to get the information to them fast. Surely Vegeta had gone to see his own lawyer, missing an important piece. 

In despair, she dialed Goten's number again. After the machine replied, she said to the vacant phone, "Goten, pick up! Come on Goten, for God's sake pick up!" 

-:-

~Epilogue~

"If a flower blooms once, it goes on blooming somewhere forever. It blooms on for whoever has seen it blooming. It was not quite clear to the boy then, but it was now."  
-Sounder, 1970

-:-

TBC in Chapter 7…


End file.
